MEADOW SPRITE 

AND OTHER TALES 

SCHOTTENFELS 












THE 

MEADOW SPRITE 

AND 

OTHER TALES 

OF MODERN GERMANY 


BY 

GERTRUDE RUTH SCHOTTENFELS 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 


EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 

BOSTON 

New York Chicago 


San Francisco 



Copyright, 1909 

BY 

EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 



©Ci.A253214 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


The Meadow Sprite . . . . 

Baumbach 

7 

The King of Macaroon Land . 

Von Volkmann 

25 

The Gold Tree 

Baumbach 

37 

Jonah and the Child of Fortune 

Von Volkmann 

49 

The Water Sprite’s Fiddlestick 

Baumbach 

75 

The Deserted Grave .... 

Von Volkmann 

91 

The Wishing Ring .... 

Von Volkmann 

lOI 

The Forgotten Chime .... 

Baumbach 


The Wonderful Organ . . . 

Von Volkmann 

129 

The Waters of Forgetfulness 

Baumbach * 

139 

The Old Trunk 

Von Volkmann 

159 


3 





.:Vn ■'•'■: ->;'■>> ■ 

- '-'•,■■>• ‘A:- 


; ; * 


vv-.-C" > v-, • ’ ^ ■ . . . 


1. ' • ^ -w . •- . ^ 


• • 

V • . ' 





• • • . < 



-£'<' ■ •• ■ 

K if,* 


& 


‘ ’*'Nl *:‘ '. • 

- 0- s • . *. • ‘ t 


.. t 







' . • .. ' V> 


P? 


% • ■ • 




■•. 4 



. •» 

■s'* 




. K 





t‘ ■• 


• . . ^ s^/ V , ; , 

-I :* . . *•• 

• . ^ ^ _ ' * 




^.- 


^ • 


tv. 




*' '. • • .OH 

• •• '•* - -• ^ 


.•■ *• - ■'. *-'•■•' 

•* * 4'L>Sf 


V" . •*• • • 

V . i> s ' 



< 






• v:'. 



* 


. .y 

r'; • 


« » »- ^ •» 

s' 




rV'^r 4^BfK* * * » * • 

- ‘ ■ •'%'* 



m 


. 


■-* "s. 


J --, 


^ r 


:' / 






• ' -*- y 


X . 



» . -. •• • r .L •> 

^ H V •• >>'•* . 

i' ■•-.u .-’ ' '/! '■ 


V' •- 
: ' ^- . /V •. ■ ' 

•o ^ ‘ .' ■ ' 

y> 7 -. > 0 . 

‘ • • • ^ # 



• / 




s , 



^l:• 


.4 

ft,, 


« - 4 y • 


ti. 



^ 4 


"■ '--r ■ 


's * 


li.w<P;:l '> - .S 


^ :> 4 V* 




INTRODUCTION 


The stories of which this volume is composed are 
taken from the German of Rudolph Baumbach and 
Richard von Volkman, two of the most charming 
story writers of modern German literature 

In my last book of stories, I included three stories 
by these two writers, as an experiment, to see if the 
children would find as great an interest in modem 
as in ancient German Classics. 

Next to Parzival and Lohengrin, they liked the 
Seven-League Bools and George the Dreamer best. 
As a result, the present volume was prepared, one 
story at a time, which was tried with gratifying 
results with the various classes, who came under 
my instruction while I was substituting in the schools 
of New York. 

Although designed especially for children of the 
fourth year, I used the stories in type-written form 
as reading material for third and fifth year classes, 
and as material for literature with two different 
eighth grade classes^ I also made use of them as 
story-telling material with two different second year 

5 


6 


Introduction 


classes, and was pleased to find that they aroused an 
equal interest and delight in every one of these 
grades. 

They are taken from Baumbach’s Summer Tales 
and Narrations and Fairy Tales^ each of which is 
more dainty and fascinating than the last, and seem 
to breathe forth from every page their author’s love 
of Nature and his native folk-lore. 

Richard von Volkman, the author of six of these 
tales, was one of the greatest surgeons and surgical 
writers the nineteenth century has known. At the 
outbreak of the Franco- Prussian War, he went to 
France at the head of the German Medical Service, 
and it was here, while encamped outside of the city, 
during the long siege of Paris, that he whiled away 
the hours of his enforced idleness by writing the 
Reveries from which these are taken. 

The Reveries are a series of delightful stories 
which he sent to his children enclosed in his letters 
from his post of duty, and which were afterward 
published in book form, under the assumed name of 
Richard Leander, and immediately received the 
popularity they so fully merited. 

Gertrude R. Schottenfels. 


THE MEADOW SPRITE AND 


OTHER TALES 

THE MEADOW SPRITE 

There was once a young Professor who, 
despite his youth, was so very wise and 
learned, that when the Seven Wise Men of 
Greece chanced to visit that part of the 
world, and entered into a discussion with 
him, they appeared like school-boys in 
comparison. 

One bright spring morning this same 
Professor went out into the country to hear 
the grass grow — an art which he also 

understood. He wandered about among 

7 


8 Tales of Modern Germany 

the light green foliage of early May, and 
watched the butterflies, those bright won- 
ders of the air, flitting about among the 
daisies. 

He heard the crickets in the grass, and 
the birds among the boughs, and the frogs 
in the meadow-brook, all singing their song 
of love and spring. Suddenly he thought 
of his native village, which he had left 
many years before to enter the university. 
And thinking of that recalled to his mind 
the little dark-browed maid who had given 
him a ginger-bread heart, and who, to his 
great surprise, had shed bitter tears at 
parting. And a strange longing awoke in 
the Professor’s well-regulated heart. 

Next morning this same longing moved 
him to pack his clothes, take up his gnarled 
staff, and to wander out of the city-gates, 
into the green world beyond. Three days 
later, he spied the blossoming fruit-trees 


Tales of Modern Germany 9 

and the steeple and blue tiled roof of his 
native church. And borne on the breeze 
there was wafted to him the soft, sweet 
chimes of the belfry. 

“I wonder if she will remember me,’" 
he said to himself. ‘‘It is hardly to be 
expected, I fear, and no doubt I shall 
have difficulty in finding the former little 
Gretchen among the eighteen-year-old girls 
of the village. But her eyes, her coal black 
eyes, will surely disclose her to me. And 
if only I chance to find her sitting on the 
stone bench in front of her door, I will 
just walk up to her, and the rest will follow 
quite naturally.” 

Whereupon he tossed his hat up in the 
air, and gave such a shout that his own 
voice frightened him. Then he looked 
around him sheepishly, fearful lest some 
one had witnessed his foolishness. But 
with the exception of a field-mouse, fleeing 


lo Tales of Modern Germany 

hastily to the shelter of Its hole, not a living 
creature was to be seen. • 

With heart beating high with hope, he 
entered the town. The chimes were silent 
now, but he heard instead the strains of 
violin and flute. A wedding procession 
was wending its way through the narrow 
village streets. The bridegroom, a young 
and stalwart peasant, looked as proud and 
happy as if the whole world were his. 

The bride, decked in snowy array, held 
her eyes modestly downward beneath her 
bridal-wreath. But once, just as they were 
passing the Professor, she raised her lids 
for a moment, and those large coal-black 
eyes told him instantly who it was walking 
beneath that gleaming wreath. 

And the poor fellow turned on his heel 
and, all unrecognized, retraced his steps. 
It was high noon. The fields shone green 
and gold in the sun, and where the stream- 




(F. II) 


THE BRIDAL PROCESSION 


A. Muller 




Tales of Modern Germany ii 

let flowed, thousands and thousands of 
glistening sparks danced upon its sur- 
face. All creation rejoiced in the light 
and warmth. 

All but the poor Professor. To-day the 
bright light seemed to hurt his eyes, and 
he shielded them with his hand as he strode 
onward. After going some distance he was 
joined by a traveler, who seemed to be re- 
turning from a long, long journey, for he 
looked like a walking cloud of dust. 

“Good friend,” quoth the stranger, “the 
sun dazzles your eyes, does it not?” The 
other replied that it did. 

“Well, if such is the case, I know of no 
better remedy than these smoked glasses 
which I wear. Try them once.” With 
these words, he removed them from his 
eyes, and handed them to the Professor. 

The latter, just to gratify the amiable 
stranger, adjusted the sad-colored glasses 


12 Tales of Modern Germany 

to his eyes. And sure enough, they in- 
stantly ceased smarting, the sunshine lost 
its bright glare, the meadows, dotted here 
and there with red, blue, and yellow flowers, 
the trees and bushes, and even the blue 
sky overhead turned to a dull and cheerless 
gray. All of which seemed eminently ap- 
propriate to the disappointed scholar. 

‘'Are your glasses for sale.?’' he in- 
quired. 

“They are in good hands,” returned 
the stranger, “and I have another pair 
with me. Keep them, I pray you, as a 
remembrance, my dear Professor.” 

‘What! You know me?” cried the 
other. “May I ask” — 

“Who I am?” finished the stranger. 
“My name is Spleen. Farewell.” 

And with these words he withdrew into 
a field-path, and was soon lost to view. 
The Professor, however, fastened the glasses 


Tales of Modern Germany 13 

more securely on his nose, and continued 
his homeward way. 

Many years had passed since the events 
just related, and the Professor had grown 
to be a crusty old bachelor, who had for- 
gotten how to enjoy anything. He still 
made excursions into the country, but the 
green trees and glowing flowers no longer 
attracted his notice. 

He plucked the flowers by their roots, 
carried them home, where he pressed and 
dried them. Then he laid the flower- 
mummies between gray blotting papers, 
and wrote their names in Latin underneath, 
and this was his one enjoyment, if enjoy- 
ment it may be called. 

Once, in one of his wanderings, he came 
to an out-of-the-way valley, where a little 
brook ran merrily along and turned the 
mill. And since he was very thirsty, he 
asked the old woman who sat sunning her- 


14 Tales of Modern Germany 

self before the door, if she would please 
give him a drink. The old dame rose at 
once, and offered him her seat, while she 
went inside for the drink. 

A few minutes later a young girl emerged 
from the house, with bread and milk in 
her hands, which she set before the stranger 
at the door. 

He wished very much to see if she were 
ugly, but it was impossible for him to 
tell through his smoked glasses, and he 
did not wish to remove them, for fear the 
sun would hurt his eyes. In silence he 
ate the proffered food, and as the miller’s 
daughter refused to take pay for it, he 
extended his hand in farewell, and went 
on. But she stood still, looking after 
him, until he disappeared among the 
bushes. Then she went back into the 
house, wondering what had befallen the 
sad-looking stranger. 


Tales of Modern Germany 15 

The meadow valley must have fostered 
some rare plants on its grassy bosom, for 
exactly three days afterwards he came that 
way again, and again he called at the mill. 
Then he took to calling regularly every few 
days, and soom became a welcome guest. 
He brought the old grandmother sugar^ 
coffee, snuff, or some other sensible gift, 
and always entertained the miller with 
edifying conversation. But never once did 
he offer to exchange a word with the 
miller’s golden-haired daughter, but con- 
tented himself with watching her every 
move through his gray glasses. This did 
not escape the miller’s notice, you may be 
very sure, and he often slyly nudged his 
mother, who nodded her gray head com- 
prehendingly. One day, as the Professor 
left the mill, and was walking along the 
edge of the meadow, he noticed a mole 
caught in a trap, endeavoring to struggle 
itself free from the death-snare. 


1 6 Tales of Modern Germany 

The kind-hearted man went over, freed 
the little prisoner, and set it on the ground. 
Then man and mole each went his way. 
But that same evening as he sat in his 
study, a bat flew in the Professor’s open 
window. This was no uncommon occur- 
rence. But on the back of this particular 
bat there sat a little elfman, no larger than 
your thumb. He dismounted in front of 
the astonished man, and made a sweeping 
courtesy. 

“What do you wish asked the scholar, 
in no too friendly tones. “Go to some 
half-witted writer, and leave sensible people 
to work undisturbed.” 

The elf, however, took it all in good 
part. He drew nearer, seated himself 
upon the inkstand and said: “Nay, do not 
chide me, nor drive me away, since I have 
come in all friendliness. This morning you 
rescued me from an evil plight; I was the 
mole you released from the trap.” 


Tales of Modern Germany 17 

‘‘Really! And pray, what is the char- 
acter you now assume ? ” asked the scholar, 
lookin'g at the little man attentively through 
his spectacles. He was a very elegant little 
figure, indeed, and if the Professor had not 
had on gray glasses, he would have observed 
that the little man was clad in a green coat 
and bright yellow cap. 

“I am Ranunculus, the Meadow Sprite,’’ 
rejoined the midget. “My servants tend 
the plants and grasses. Some of them 
wash the plants with dew, others comb 
them with sunbeams, and still others carry 
nourishment to their roots. These latter 
I wished to surprise at their work, this 
morning, and disguised myself as a mole 
so as to be unrecognized by them. While 
in this form, I fell into a trap, from which 
you rescued me. 

“Therefore I have come here to thank 
you, and to offer you a service in return.” 


1 8 Tales of Modern Germany 

“Let me hear what it is/’ said the 
other. 

“You are a very learned man,” con- 
tinued the other. “You know all the 
flowers and plants that grow on the moun- 
tains and fields, in the forests and meadows. 
But there is one plant you do not know.” 

“What is it?” asked the Professor, now 
all attention. 

“It is a little flower called heartsease.” 

“No, I do not know it,” admitted the 
Professor. 

“Well, I do,” said the elf, “and I will 
tell you where you may find it. If you 
follow the mill-pond, with which you are 
already acquainted, to its very source, you 
will come upon some rocks among which 
there is a cave, which is said to be a dwarf’s 
cave. There, just before its entrance, the 
flower, heartsease, blooms. But, mind you, 
it blossoms only on the Sunday following 


Tales of Modern Germany 19 

Pentecost, and only at the hour of sunrise. 
But whosoe’er is on the spot at that magic 
hour, may pluck the blossom. Have I 
made myself clear ? ” 

‘‘Fully,” replied the scholar. 

“Then fare-thee-well,” said the elfman, 
mounting his winged steed. And he flew 
straightway through the open window, leav- 
ing the Professor rubbing his eyes in amaze- 
ment, and wondering if he were really 
awake. Finally he shook his head, and 
buried himself in a volume bound in 
parchment. 

A few days after, the miller’s pretty 
daughter and her grandmother were sitting 
before their door spinning. It was the 
hour of twilight, and as their wheels whirred 
round, the old dame was telling the young 
girl of Lady Berchta, the Good Spirit of 
the South, who rewarded industrious spin- 
ners by presenting them with huge knots 


20 Tales of Modern Germany 

of flax, which afterward changed into 
yellow gold, and other of her marvelous 
doings. 

She also related the story of the sleeping 
man of the dwarf’s cave, who was under a 
magic spell, and must sleep on till awakened 
by some maiden’s kiss. Only once every 
hundred years did he become visible, and 
then should some maiden be on the spot 
with three kisses she could break the magic 
spell, and become his bride as a reward. 

So the old dame spun her stories, and 
the pretty grand-daughter spun them still 
farther, as though they were the threads of 
flax revolving through her slender fingers. 
The stars rose in the heavens. It was the 
blossoming time of the elder, and presently 
their sweet scent overcame the maiden, 
and she could scarcely keep her drowsy 
lids open. So she sought her chamber and 
retired. 


Tales of Modern Germany 21 

In the night, it seemed to her that a little 
elfman, wearing a green coat and a golden 
cap appeared to her, and regarding her in 
the most friendly way, said, ‘‘You lucky 
child! For you, and no other, is the 
treasure of the cave destined. To-morrow 
is the day upon which the sleeping man of 
the cave becomes visible. At sunrise he 
may be seen slumbering at the entrance 
of the cave. And if you will not be timid, 
but will kiss him three times, the spell 
which binds him will be broken, and he 
will be your own. 

“But be very careful not to speak a 
word, nor even let a sound escape you 
while breaking the enchantment! For if 
you do, the slumberer will sink three thou- 
sand fathoms beneath the earth, and be 
obliged to sleep another hundred years ere 
he can be released.'’ Thus spake the elf, 
and vanished. 


22 Tales of Modern Germany 

The maiden awoke and rubbed her eyes, 
and through the slats of the shutters beheld 
the first gray streaks of dawn. A sweet 
odor as of new-mown hay filled the room. 
Then the girl arose and dressed herself, 
and softly left the room and the house. 
She went along, carefully holding up her 
long dress from the dewy grass, till she 
reached the Dwarf’s Cave. 

The forest birds began to sleepily bestir 
themselves, and tune their throats in the 
branches overhead. The white mist sank 
to the ground, and disappeared in long 
streaks across the meadows, and the tops 
of the pine trees gleamed golden in the 
sunshine. 

There stood the miller’s daughter before 
the entrance of the cave, and there on the 
mossy stone, sat a man fast asleep, just as 
the elf had predicted. She almost screamed 
aloud, so closely did the slumberer resemble 


Tales of Modern Germany 23 

the Professor. Yes, even to the smoked 
glasses, which he wore upon his nose. 
Fortunately, she remembered the sprite’s 
warning, and noiselessly, but with fast- 
beating heart, she made her way to his side, 
piously resolved to break the spell which 
bound him. Nor, strange to say, did the 
task now seem so distasteful to her. 

Bending lightly over him, she kissed him 
on the lips, and the sleeper made a move- 
ment, as though he would fain awaken. 
She kissed him the second time, and he 
awoke and stared at her through his spec- 
tacles, as if she were a ghost. But she 
gathered up her courage, and pressed a 
third kiss on his lips. Thereupon he arose 
with such haste, that his glasses fell from 
his nose to the ground, where they lay in 
splinters. And now, after so many years^ 
he beheld for the first time the bright, joyous 
green of early Spring, the vari-colored 


24 Tales of Modern Germany 

flowers, and the heavenly blue of the sky 
overhead. 

And in the midst of all this splendor, he 
saw a maiden as beautiful as a June rose, 
and as slender as a lily. He quickly strode 
to her side, and returned the kisses with 
interest. And the Meadow Sprite, Ran- 
unculus, sat upon a marsh-marigold, and 
danced for joy with the bees. 

Then he sprang down so hastily that he 
left the flower swaying in the breeze, and 
went on attending to his all-important work. 
He had indeed kept his word; the Professor 
had found his heartsease, and the miller’s 
daughter her fate. 


THE KING OF MACAROON LAND 


The King of Macaroon Land had just 
arisen from bed, and was being dressed 
for the day by the minister of the house- 
hold. The minister was about to hold out 
a stocking, into which the royal foot was 
to be thrust, when he noticed a hole in the 
heel. 

He deftly turned the stocking round, 
hoping it had escaped the royal eye, which 
usually concerned itself more with its 
owner’s fine boots than with his stockings. 
But luck was against him, for the King 
had observed the hole, and snatching the 
stocking out of the minister’s hand, he 
exclaimed tragically: 

‘"Of what avail is it that I am King, 
when I have no Queen to look after me! 

25 


26 Tales of Modern Germany 

Suppose I take unto myself a wife ? What 
think you ? 

The minister replied that he considered 
it a fine idea; one which he himself had 
been on the point of suggesting, had he not 
felt sure that the King would that very day 
give utterance to it. 

‘'Very good,’’ the King rejoined, “but 
do you for one moment imagine it will be 
an easy task to find a Princess who will 
suit me ?” 

“To be sure,” replied the other; “not 
only one, but ten.” 

But the King at once proceeded to dis- 
possess his mind of the idea that the task 
would be a light one. He told how high 
his ideal and requirements were, and de- 
clared that even should he chance to meet 
with a Princess who fulfilled them all, there 
was yet another condition, more weighty 
than all the others, to be considered. 


Tales of Modern Germany 27 

“And pray, what may that be?” asked 
the minister. 

The King replied, “You know how sur- 
passingly fond I am of gingerbread ? Well, 
be she never so beautiful, and clever, and 
suitable in every other respect, unless she 
can bake gingerbread exactly to my liking, 
neither too hard nor too soft, I shall not 
marry her.” 

Then he added that in all his broad 
realm he had never yet met anyone who 
properly understood the art of baking it. 
The minister was indeed alarmed, but 
quickly pulling himself together, he assured 
his Majesty that he had no doubt but that 
he would speedily find a princess well 
versed in that particular branch of culinary 
lore. 

“We will seek her together,” said the 
King. And sure enough, the very next day 
they set out on a round of visits to all the 


28 Tales of Modern Germany 

nobles of the realm who chanced to have 
marriageable daughters. They could find 
but three, however, sufficiently beautiful 
and clever to appeal to the King’s fastidious 
taste. But the best laid plans, as we all 
know, oftentimes go astray. And as bad 
luck would have it, the King found out all 
too soon, that not one of the three knew 
how to bake gingerbread. 

The first one readily confessed her in- 
ability to do so, as soon as his Majesty 
broached the subject. “But,” she added, 
“I can bake the most delicious almond 
cakes, which I am sure you will like equally 
well.” 

The King declared it must be ginger- 
bread or nothing, and resumed his search. 

The second princess smacked her lips 
when she heard the word, and exclaimed 
angrily, “Have done with your nonsense! 
A princess who can bake gingerbread! 


Tales of Modern Germany 29 

There is none! Who ever heard of such 
foolishness ? 

But the King fared worst of all at the 
hands of the third princess. She did not 
even give him a chance to ask the ques- 
tion. On the contrary, she forestalled it 
by asking if he could play the Jews- 
harp. He was obliged to say no, and 
she refused to marry him, although she 
admitted that she regretted the necessity 
of doing so, for he suited her in every 
other respect. 

“But all my life,’" she said, “I have 
vowed I would wed no man who could not 
play the instrument of which I am so 
inordinately fond.” 

So the King and his worthy minister 
returned home empty-handed, and the King 
was much dejected, although he declared 
he presumed naught could have come of it 
anyway, since he had an inward feeling 
that she could not bake gingerbread. 


30 Tales of Modern Germany 

But a King must have a Queen. So 
after several years had elapsed, his Majesty 
again broached the subject to his minister. 
But he said sadly he had given up the idea 
of finding a princess who could bake his 
favorite. Would the minister kindly go to 
the first one and ask her to be his 
bride ? 

The latter went, but returned in due 
time, with the tidings that his Majesty was 
a trifle too late. The Princess had already 
married another King, the one from the 
land where the capers grow, and had be- 
taken herself thither, a year or so previously. 

‘‘Then go to the second one,’’ begged the 
King, “and see if she will wed me.” 

The minister departed to do his bidding. 
He returned, however, with the sad news 
that her father greatly regretted that he 
could not comply with his Majesty’s re- 
quest. He would, indeed, love to have 


Tales of Modern Germany 31 

the King for a son-in-law, but unfortunately, 
his daughter had died in the meantime. 

This was a great blow, but after medi- 
tating upon the matter for some time, the 
King decided to despatch his messenger to 
the third charmer. Perhaps she, too, had 
seen fit, in the meantime, to change her 
mind about the Jewsharp. But he awaited 
the minister’s return with great anxiety this 
time, for she was his last hope. 

And fortunately, in this instance, the 
Fates saw fit to be kind. For she told the 
King’s messenger that although it had been 
the dream of her youth to have a husband 
who could play the Jewsharp, she had 
found that dreams were fleeting — especi- 
ally those of youth. 

She realized that she could never have 
her wish, and since the King pleased her 
in every other respect, she would consent 
to wed him. When the King heard these 


32 Tales of Modern Germany 

good tidings, he fell upon the minister’s 
neck in gratitude, and promised him high 
rewards for his kind offices. 

Then he set about preparing for the 
bridal. Bright flags and banners were hung 
all over the city, and garlands of roses were 
stretched across the streets, from one ouseh 
to another. The wedding was celebrated 
with so much pomp and magnificence that, 
for fourteen days, no one in the city could 
talk of anything else. 

For a whole year the King and Queen 
lived very happily, and Jewsharps and gin- 
gerbread were apparently forgotten. Then 
came a day upon which the King arose 
with his left foot first, in consequence of 
which everything went wrong. The im- 
perial crown fell down, and the little cross 
at the top was broken off. To make mat- 
ters worse, it rained the livelong day. The 
minister brought in the new maps of the 


Tales of Modern Germany 33 

kingdom, and the King saw with anger 
that they had been painted red instead of 
blue, as he had ordered, and to cap the 
climax, the Queen had a raging headache. 

Therefore, you will not be surprised, I 
am sure, to hear that, for the first time since 
their marriage, the royal pair began to 
quarrel. Why, they themselves could not 
have told you, except that the King was 
cross, and with the contrariness usual to 
womankind, the Queen would have the last 
word. 

When they had been exchanging com- 
pliments for some moments, the Queen 
shrugged her shoulders in the most pro- 
voking fashion, and said, ‘‘I should think 
you would keep still, and not find fault 
with everything you see. You are not so 
perfect, yourself. If I remember rightly, 
you cannot even play the Jewsharp.’’ 

But hardly had the words left her lips, 


34 Tales of Modern Germany 

than the King rejoined spitefully, ‘'And 
you do not even know how to bake ginger- 
bread!’’ And now, for the first time, words 
failed the Queen, and she was quite still, 
leaving the last word to the King. 

He withdrew into his own apartment, 
rubbed his hands together in glee and said 
to himself: “It’s a good thing for me my 
wife does not know how to bake ginger- 
bread! With what else could I have re- 
torted when she reproached me with my 
inability to play the Jewsharp ?” 

But the Queen cuddled down in one 
corner of the sofa in her own room, and 
wept bitter tears. She scored herself most 
roundly for having been so foolish as to 
quarrel with the King. And most especi- 
ally did she grieve over having taunted him 
with his shortcomings as a musician. She 
told herself woefully that she could have 
done nothing more stupid, had she tried. 


Tales of Modern Germany 35 

But the more the King thought the 
matter over, the better pleased he became, 
till finally he stood before his wife^s pic- 
ture and began to whistle his favorite 
melody. Suddenly he noticed a cobweb 
on the painting, just over her royal nose. 
So he mounted a chair, and carefully 
brushed it off with his handkerchief, saying: 

‘'She certainly was in a rage, the dear 
little wife. I believe I’ll go and see what 
she is doing.” 

He opened the door and started down 
the long hall leading to her room. Now, 
as I have already told you, this was the 
day upon which everything went wrong. 
Therefore, you need not wonder when you 
hear that, although it was quite dark out- 
side, the groom of the chambers had ne- 
glected to light the lamps. 

The King went down the dark hall 
toward the Queen’s room, carefully feeling 


36 Tales of Modem Germany 

his way with both hands. Suddenly he 
encountered someone in his path. 

“Who is it?’’ he asked. 

“It is I,” said the Queen’s voice. 

“And what are you seeking, my dear?” 
he queried. 

“You, to ask your pardon for so griev- 
ously offending you,” she responded. 

“That is entirely unnecessary,” declared 
the King, tenderly embracing her, “since 
I was really more to blame than you. 
Besides, I do assure you, I have forgotten 
all about it long ago. But I really think, 
for both our sakes, there are two words 
which should be abolished from the royal 
dictionary, and they are — Jewsharps — 
and” — 

“Gingerbread,” interrupted the Queen, 
laughing, even while she secretly wiped 
away the last remnants of her weeping, 
under cover of the friendly darkness. And 
with that our story is ended. 


THE GOLD TREE 


The room in which this story takes place 
was very simply furnished. Its walls were 
whitewashed, and their only ornament con- 
sisted of a couple of maps, yellow with age. 
Two narrow beds stood close to the wall, and 
on the opposite side of the room was a book- 
shelf and a wardrobe, upon the top of which 
rested a globe used in studying the earth. 

In the centre of the room was a long ink- 
stained table, and at the table, on two 
hard wooden chairs, two boys, about twelve 
years of age, bent over their books. The 
one with light hair was poring over a 
volume of Cornelius Nepos, the first book 
used by students of Latin, and a well- 
thumbed dictionary. Every now and then, 
a sigh escaped him. 


38 Tales of Modern Germany 

The brown-haired lad was working out 
a problem in cubic root of the ninth 
power. 

The Latin student was named John, and 
the mathematician, Harry. Occasionally 
the boys would raise their heads from their 
work to gaze longingly out of the open 
window, through which the buzzing flies 
flew in and out. 

What a shame to be cooped up in an old 
school-room, while the golden sunlight 
bathed every tree and hedge in the garden 
in a blaze of glory! And as if to mock 
them, a blooming twig of lilac exhaled its 
sweetness right in the open window. An- 
other hour must elapse ere they could gain 
their freedom, and the minutes crept along 
as slowly as the snails beneath the goose- 
berry bush outside. 

No, it was impossible to shorten their 
misery, for just outside in the next room 


Tales of Modern Germany 39 

their tutor, Dr. Cudgel, sat at his desk, 
and the door between the two rooms was 
wide open. He was supposed to be busy 
with his writing, but the boys knew well 
enough that he had seated himself there 
purposely to keep his eye on them. Oh, 
no, there was no escaping that study hour! 

‘^Cornelius Nepos might have done some- 
thing better than to have crossed the old 
Alps,’" grumbled John, half audibly; while, 
‘‘Nine times eighty are seven hundred and 
twenty,” murmured Harry in subdued under 
tones. Then they stole a look at each other, 
made a grimace, and yawned. 

Suddenly they heard a loud buzzing. A 
beetle which had been exploring the lilacs 
outside had flown into the room by mistake. 
It circled round their heads three times, 
and then — fell — plump into the ink-well. 

“It served the stupid thing right for 
coming in here,” said Harry, in low tones. 


40 Tales of Modern Germany 

‘‘Why didn’t he stay out there in the golden 
sunshine where he was well off ? But to 
be drowned in ink! No, really, that is too 
miserable a death even for a dolt! Wait, 
comrade, and I’ll rescue you.” 

He was going to help the struggling insect 
out with a penholder, but John forestalled 
him in the work of rescue by holding out 
his finger to the drowning mite. Then 
they dried him nicely on a blotter, and 
looked on with interest while he cleaned 
himself with his fore-legs. 

“Look! He has a red breast-plate and 
black horns,” said John, wiping his inky 
finger on his hair. “He must be King of 
the gold beetles. He lives in a castle of 
jasmine flowers and rose petals. His musi- 
cians are crickets and locusts, and he has 
the glow-worms for his torch-bearers.” 

“You silly thing!” cried Henry. 

But John continued: “And whoever 


Tales of Modern Germany 41 

meets this King of the Gold Beetles, is in 
truth born under a lucky star. Look out, 
Henry, something is going to happen — an 
adventure, or something out of the ordinary. 
And come to think of it, to-day is the first 
of May, and more than one wonder has 
occurred on May Day, as you well know. 
See how he beckons to us with his feelers, 
and raises his wing shields. First thing we 
know, he will be transformed into a little 
elf, clad in royal robes, with a crown of 
gold upon his brow.’’ 

‘‘Yes, silly, he will fly away,” laughed 
Henry. “Look, there he goes! What did 
I tell you?” 

Both boys ran to the window to look 
after the beetle. But the flashing little 
jewel of the air had already winged his 
circling flight afar, and was out of sight, 
beyond the garden wall. 

Just then they heard a distinct hemming 


42 Tales of Modern Germany 

and hawing in the next room, where their 
tutor sat, and they hastened back to their 
lessons. 

Suddenly John whispered, “See, the 
wonder begins!’’ and pointed to the ink- 
stand, out of which a slender green twig 
was growing before their very eyes. It 
grew and grew, until it touched the ceiling. 

“We are surely dreaming,” declared 
Henry, rubbing his eyes. 

“No, this is a real live fairy tale, and we 
are living in it,” cried John, rejoicingly. 

And the twig spread side-ways, and bore 
branches and twigs, with leaves and blos- 
soms. The ceiling of the room disappeared, 
the walls melted away, as by magic, and a 
dusky forest surrounded the astonished boys. 

“Forward!” commanded John, pulling 
the resisting Henry along with him. “Here 
comes our adventure!” 

The blooming shrubbery parted of its 


Tales of Modern Germany 43 

own accord, and opened up a pathway for 
the boys. The sunlight broke through the 
lattice of the forest trees, and lay in a 
thousand golden flecks upon the mossy 
carpet. Star-eyed blossoms of glowing 
colors sprang up out of the moss, and curl- 
ing tendrils twined about the tree-trunks. 
Song birds of brilliant plumage fluttered in 
the trees overhead, and deer and other 
forest animals sprang nimbly through the 
bushes. 

At last the trees grew less closely to- 
gether, and a rosy light shone through their 
trunks, and John whispered, in tones of 
excitement, ‘'Here it comes!” 

They crossed an open meadow, in the 
centre of which stood a solitary tree. Yet 
it was no ordinary tree, you may be sure. 
No, indeed! It was the wonder tree of 
which John had so often heard, the tree 
with leaves of gold. 


44 Tales of Modern Germany 

Both boys stood speechless in amazement. 
Then suddenly a dwarf emerged from be- 
hind the tree. He was no larger than a 
three-year-old child, but he was not mis- 
shapen, as dwarfs so frequently are. Far 
from it. He was beautifully formed, grace- 
ful and slender, and he wore a green mantle, 
and bore a golden helmet on his head. It 
needed but a glance to tell both boys who 
stood before them. 

He came a few steps nearer and made a 
deep courtesy. “The enchanted princess 
awaits her deliverer,” he said. “Which one 
of you will undertake the hazardous enter- 
prise i ” 

“I will!” cried John, in eager accents. 

The dwarf immediately led forth a snow- 
white steed, and stood holding its golden 
bridle. 

“Don’t go, I beg of you, John,” pleaded 
Harry fearfully. But John was already in 


Tales of Modern Germany 45 

the saddle. The magic horse sprang neigh- 
ing in the air, and with tail and mane flying, 
sped swiftly into the forest. A shining 
golden beetle flew ahead of them, as though 
guiding them along. John turned around 
for a last look at Harry, and saw him still 
standing under the gold tree. Then boy 
and tree disappeared from view. 

It was a glorious ride. John sat in his 
saddle as securely as though he were on his 
accustomed school-chair, instead of a horse. 
He had to laugh when he thought that only 
one short hour ago, he had been sighing 
over Cornelius Nepos, and trembling at 
the thought of Dr. Cudgel. For, in the 
meantime, the little school-boy in short 
jacket had grown into a fine-looking horse- 
man, with long coat and vest, and sword 
and spurs. 

Thus he sped through the enchanted 
forest. At length his horse set up a friendly 


46 Tales of Modern Germany 

neighing. The forest grew lighter and 
lighter. A few steps more, and horse and 
rider stopped before a marble palace. 
Bright banners floated from its gleaming 
turrets, and bugles and trumpets sounded 
a glad welcome. And best of all, on the 
balcony stood the enchanted princess, wav- 
ing a snowy kerchief. 

She resembled his neighbor, Helene, with 
whom he had played, when he was a boy 
at school; only she was larger, and a 
thousand times more beautiful. John now 
sprang out of the saddle, and hastened up 
the steps, his spurs jingling merrily as he 
went. 

There was a man at the castle gate, the 
seneschal, no doubt. But how strangely 
familiar he seemed to our hero. Suddenly, 
he advanced toward the newcomer, stretched 
out his hand, and gave poor John a ringing 
box on the ear, crying, “Fell asleep, did 


Tales of Modern Germany 47 

you, you sluggard? Wait! I’ll attend to 
you.” 

The enchantment came to an untimely 
end, and John found himself once more at 
the ink-stained table, with Cornelius Nepos 
and his Latin dictionary close at hand. 
Across from him, Harry was still busy 
with his figures, while nearby stood Dr. 
Cudgel, staring at him through his glasses, 
in the most forbidding manner. 

When their study period came to an end, 
and the boys found themselves at length 
in the garden, enjoying their afternoon 
lunch under the shade of the lilacs, John 
told what a wonderful dream he had had. 

‘‘How strange!” cried Harry, at its 
conclusion. “I myself had the self-same 
dream, only it ended differently.” 

“How did yours end? Go on, tell me 
all about it!” begged John, breathless with 
excitement. 


48 Tales of Modern Germany 

‘M did not see the enchanted castle, but 
my dream was identical with yours till we 
came to the gold tree. Then you mounted 
the snow-white steed and rode away to 
release the princess, while I remained be- 
hind, shook the tree, and filled all my 
pockets with gold leaves. Then that stupid 
tutor woke me, and my glory had an end.” 

“Harry,” cried John earnestly, grasping 
his hand; “believe me, when two people 
have the selfsame dream, it is sure to come 
true. That dream was a prophecy. You 
mark my words!” Then the boys finished 
their lunch, and went off to play ball. 

“And was the dream fulfilled .?” you will 
ask. Indeed it was, and even to the smallest 
detail! John became a poet, and rode his 
Pegasus through the green woods of poesy, 
while Harry, who in the dream shook the 
magic tree and pocketed the golden leaves, 
became his publisher. 


JONAH AND THE CHILD OF 
FORTUNE 


In a little village of Germany there dwelt 
a young man who was most unfortunate 
in everything he undertook to do. His 
father had been called Jonah, so Jonah was 
likewise his name. His parents died while 
he was very young, and he went to live with 
a tall scrawny aunt, who assumed the task 
of rearing him in the way he should go. 

Now spare the rod and spoil the child 
was no part of her creed, and she punished 
him religiously, on general principles, every 
time she returned home from early Mass. 
Since never a day passed that she did not 
go to early Mass, you may judge how sad 
was his plight. 


49 


50 Tales of Modern Germany 

Oh, he was very, very unfortunate! If 
he chanced to lift a glass, it was always 
sure to fall with a crash; and as sure as 
he stooped to pick up the pieces, just so 
sure was he to cut his finger. 

Thus he fared in all things. Bye and 
bye, there came a day upon which the 
scrawny aunt was gathered to her last rest, 
and he planted as many bushes and trees 
as her grave would hold. It almost seemed 
as if he were bent upon heaping over her 
all the many sticks she had broken on his 
back. 

Yet his evil star was still in the ascend- 
ancy. At length he fell into a state of deep 
melancholy, and he resolved to wander 
forth into the wide, wide world. 

“Worse cannot befall me,” he thought, 
“and perchance I may better my condi- 
tion. At least, there’s no harm in try- 
mg. 


Tales of Modern Germany 51 

So he put all his available funds in his 
pockets and wandered out of the city gate. 
Outside he paused awhile on the stone 
bridge, and leaned over the railing. He 
looked down at the waves which were 
breaking in foam against the pillars of the 
bridge, and his heart was heavy. 

It seemed to him not altogether right for 
him to leave the city, where he had dwelt 
so long. Perhaps he would not have had 
the courage to tear himself away had not 
the wind suddenly blown his hat from his 
head. It fell into the river, of course, and 
before he fully awoke from his reverie, it 
had drifted under the bridge, and was al- 
ready dancing up and down the waves on 
the other side of the stream. 

And every time it rose on the crest of a 
wave, it seemed to call to him mockingly, 
‘‘Good-bye, Jonah, I am off! You may 
stay at home, if you wish!’’ Then Jonah 


52 Tales of Modern, Germany 

shook the dust of his native town from his 
feet in anger, and went on his way, without 
a hat. 

Occasionally he met other wanderers, 
singing and joking along the way. They 
invited him to join company with them, 
but each time he shook his head sadly and 
said: “Nay, I am not fit company for any- 
one, and would bring you small luck. 
Indeed, I am called Jonah.’’ 

No sooner did they hear his name, than 
they became silent arid embarrassed, and 
proceeded upon their way with such haste 
that they left a cloud of dust in their wake. 

Toward evening he came to an inn, and 
sat in a lonely corner of the dining-room, 
with his head in his hands. Before him, 
on the table, stood a tin tankard filled with 
wine, untouched. Finally, observing his 
deep dejection, the innkeeper’s daughter 
crossed over to his side, and touched him 


Tales of Modern Germany 53 

on the shoulder. He started as if shot. 
She asked him why he was so sad, and he 
told her his story. 

As soon as she heard his name, her com- 
passion took sudden flight, and she retreated 
to her spinning-wheel and left him alone 
with his thoughts. And thus it was, wher- 
e’er he went. After he had wandered about 
for a few weeks, without really knowing 
whither he was going, he chanced one day 
upon a wonderful large garden, enclosed 
by a high gilded railing. Through this 
fence he could perceive many very high 
old trees and thick, low hedges, as well 
as open stretches of greensward. 

Babbling and purling over its pebbles, 
a little brook wound in and out among the 
trees, with many little bridges spanning it. 
Tame deer and gentle does walked up and 
down the paths of yellow sand. They 
paused beside the fence, and stretched 


54 Tales of Modern Germany 

their heads through the iron railing to eat 
the bread he held in his hand. 

In the centre of the garden, a stately 
palace towered amid the trees. Its silver 
turrets, from which bright flags and banners 
were streaming, glistened in the sun. He 
strolled along the fence till he came to a 
large open gate, which seemed to invite 
him to enter. 

A long shady avenue led directly to the 
castle. Utter silence reigned on all sides, 
but near the gate, he espied a sign. 

‘‘Aha!” thought Jonah to himself, “that 
is always the way. If one ever does reach 
a peaceful spot where an open gateway 
invites one to rest, there is always sure to 
be a sign posted somewhere, ‘No tres- 
passing allowed.’ ” 

But, to his great surprise, on drawing 
nearer, he saw that for once he had been 
mistaken. For this sign read: “No one 
is permitted to weep in this garden.” 


Tales of Modern Germany 55 

“What a foolish inscription/’ cried Jonah, 
drawing out his handkerchief and wiping 
his eyes, to make sure they had not deceived 
him. Then, too, if it really read that way, 
he was so accustomed to weeping that he 
could not be sure that a stray tear or two 
were not yet lurking in a corner of Jiis 
eyes. 

When he had assured himself that his 
eyes were really dry, he entered the garden. 
The stately avenue rather embarrassed him 
with its air of elegance. So he chose a 
little side-path leading between high hedges 
of jasmine and roses. 

He followed this until he reached a little 
wood, whose many paths all wound to a 
hill, on the crest of which he espied a most 
beautiful Princess. 

In her lap lay a golden crown, upon 
which she was blowing her breath. Then 
she rubbed it with a corner of her silken 


S6 Tales of Modern Germany 

robe, and laughed in glee when she beheld 
its polished surface. Then she smoothed 
her long hair, and again set the crown on 
her head. 

Poor Jonah was stricken dumb with fear 
when he beheld her. His heart beat so 
loud that it well-nigh suffocated him. 
Whatever should he do ? He dropped 
down behind a bush. It was a barberry 
bush, and one twig lay squarely across his 
face. There was quite a breeze stirring, 
and as the twig swayed lightly to and fro, 
a thorn kept tickling the end of his nose. 

There was no escaping the consequences 
— he had to sneeze aloud. The Princess 
turned in sudden fright, and beheld the 
luckless Jonah cowering behind the bush. 

‘‘What do you want ’’ she cried. “Why 
are you hiding there ? Do you wish to rob 
me, or are you afraid of me ? ’’ 

Thereupon, trembling like an aspen leaf. 


Tales of Modern Germany 


57 


he emerged from his hiding-place behind 
the bush. The Princess took a look at 
him. 

‘‘You mean me no harm, I see,’’ she said, 
laughing. “Come, sit here beside me. My 
companions have all left me, and I am 
lonely. Perhaps you know some pretty 
tale to tell me, or one to make me laugh. 
But good gracious! how sad you look! 
What ails you ? If you did not make such 
a gloomy face, you would be quite good- 
looking.” 

“Well, if you really wish me to, I will 
sit down for a moment,” said Jonah. 
“But, pray, who are you? I have never^ 
in all my life before, beheld anyone half so 
beautiful!” 

“I am the Princess Good Fortune, and 
this is my father’s garden.” 

“What are you doing here, all by your- 
self?” he asked. 


58 Tales of Modern Germany 

‘‘Oh, I feed my deer, and polish my 
crown ’’ — 

“And then?’’ 

“Then I feed my gold-fish.” 

“And when you are through feeding 
them?” 

“Oh, then my companions come back, 
and we sing and dance and laugh.” 

“What a life, what a happy life!” sighed 
Jonah. “But tell me, is this what you do 
every day ? ” 

“Yes, every single day,” she answered. 
“But come, it’s my turn to ask questions. 
Who are you, and what is your name ? ’’ 

“Please do not ask me that, beautiful 
Princess,” he begged. “I am the most 
unfortunate of mortals, and have the most 
detestable name under the sun.” 

“An ugly name is a misfortune,” she 
replied. “We have a man here who is 
called Duckweed, and another is named 


Tales of Modern Germany 59 

Grease-Spot. Is your name anything like 
that?’’ 

“No,” he replied sadly. am Jonah.” 

“Jonah? That’s enough to make one 
die a-laughing,” she declared. “Can’t you 
take a different name? I will think up a 
pretty name, suitable for you, and will ask 
my father to give you permission to bear 
it. My father can do anything he pleases, 
for he is King of this land. But, mind, I 
will do it only on condition that you wear 
a glad face. 

“Take your hand away from your face, 
and stop pulling down the corners of your 
mouth. You really have a nice mouth, 
but you will spoil it completely if you keep 
on like this. There! Now you do look 
a little more sensible. But come, tell me, 
why are you always so sad ? Now I am 
always happy, and everybody with whom 
I talk seems so, except you.” 


6o Tales of Modern Germany 

‘‘Why am I so sad?” repeated Jonah. 
“Because I have always been sad, all my 
life long. Why should I be anything but 
sad ? All I have ever had has been mis- 
fortune. You say you are always joyful ? 
How did you begin being so ? ” 

“Oh, I had a fairy godmother,” she 
made reply, “for whom my father once 
did a great service. When I was christened, 
she took me in her arms, kissed me upon 
the brow, and said, “You shall always be 
joyful, and make the whole world rejoice. 
And if, by any chance, a sad mortal gazes 
on you, he shall straightway forget his woes. 
You shall be called Good Fortune.’ Evi- 
dently, no fairy ever kissed you. Sir Jonah.” 

“No, indeed,” lamented poor Jonah, 
“never!” 

Thereupon the Princess became very 
thoughtful. She gazed steadily at him 
with her large blue eyes, until he became 


Tales of Modern Germany 6i 

quite uncomfortable. At length she mur- 
mured, ‘‘I wonder if it must always be a 
fairy. A princess has some power, also. 
I do believe I’ll try it.” Aloud, she said, 
‘‘Come here. Kneel down. You are far 
too tall.” She bent down and kissed him, 
then ran laughingly away. 

Before he could collect his wits, she had 
disappeared from view. He arose very 
slowly. He had a strange sensation, as 
though he had just awakened from a 
dream. And yet it had been no dream, 
for a wonderful happiness was beginning 
to steal over his heart. 

“If only I had my hat,” he sighed, “I 
would toss it up into the air for joy.” 
Then he added, “No doubt it would trill 
a roundelay and soar away on skylark 
pinions. That’s what I feel like doing 
myself. Hip, hip, hurrah! I really believe 
I ’m getting merry. Wouldn’t that be won- 
derful ?” 


62 Tales of Modern Germany 

He picked a bouquet of flowers, and 
wandered out upon the highway, singing 
at the top of his voice. As soon as he 
reached the next town, he bought a red 
velvet doublet slashed with white satin* 
and a hat with a long, trailing white feather. 
He looked at himself in the glass and said, 
‘‘Jonah’s my name, is it? Well, we’ll see. 
Perhaps I’ll be given another name ere 
long. But it will have to be a very pretty 
one, or I’ll not take it.” 

Then he mounted a horse, and put spurs 
to it, that it might prance merrily, and 
continued his journey. 

Meantime, after giving Jonah the kiss. 
Princess Good-Fortune had run and run 
at full speed. After a while, she ran more 
and more slowly, and at last she sat down 
on a bench not far from the castle, and 
began to weep bitterly. 

When her friends returned, they found 


Tales of Modern Germany 63 

her weeping. They endeavored to console 
her, but could not. So in great fright, they 
ran to the King, and told him that a great 
misfortune had befallen the land — Princess 
Good-Fortune was in the garden crying. 

The King turned pale with fright when 
he heard it, and sprang quickly down the 
steps, into the garden. And there, sure 
enough, he found the Princess on a bench, 
crying as though her heart would break. 
Her golden crown was lying on her lap, 
covered with the many tears she had shed, 
and glistening in the sun, as though it were 
set with a thousand diamonds. 

The King tried in vain to comfort her; 
she was inconsolable. So he led her into 
the castle, and hastened to despatch mes- 
sengers far and wide over the land, in search 
of beautiful and costly gifts to lavish on 
her. All to no purpose, for she remained 
sad and sorrowful, and though often pressed 


64 Tales of Modern Germany 

by her father, as to what had occurred to 
so grieve her, would give him no satisfaction. 

The King was very persistent, and kept 
on questioning her every day. And at last^ 
one day, in sheer desperation, the Princess 
broke down and told him all that had 
happened. The King held up his hands 
in horror. Had she, in truth, taken leave 
of her senses, to have so far forgotten her 
dignity ? He could scarcely believe his ears. 

Then he insisted upon being told why 
she had done such an unmaidenly thing. 
She replied that she pitied Jonah so, she 
did it to see whether she could not make 
him a little less unhappy. 

‘‘A pretty reason for a Princess to kiss 
the first hatless, ragged vagabond who 
crosses her path!’’ stormed her father. 
‘‘And named Jonah, to boot! Did any- 
one ever hear the equal of such folly ? 
But he shall pay for it,” the King raged 


Tales of Modern Germany 65 

on, ‘‘and dearly! I’ll catch him yet, and 
when I do he shall be beheaded. That is 
the very least punishment I can inflict for 
so dire an offense.” Thereupon he com- 
manded his horsemen to scatter in all 
directions, to search for Jonah. 

“If you come across a young vagabond^ 
who looks as sad as if the mice had eaten 
his last bite of bread and butter away from 
him, and is without a hat, fetch him thither 
at once, for he it is that you are seeking.” 

The horsemen sped in all directions, like 
chaff before a wind. Some few of them 
passed Jonah on the way, but as he was 
clad in elegant apparel, and mounted on a 
prancing steed, it is not at all strange that 
they did not recognize him. 

Others hastened back to the palace with 
prisoners of all descriptions, none of whom 
was the one so eagerly awaited. Finally 
the King became angry at the stupidity of 


66 Tales of Modern Germany 

his messengers, and scored them all roundly. 
But the Princess remained as sad as ever, 
during all this time, and came to the table 
every day with pale cheeks and tear-stained 
eyes. 

The King could do naught but gaze in 
compassion at his once beautiful daughter, 
and soup and roast grew cold, unheeded. 
Week followed week. Then there came a 
day when the whole courtyard rang with a 
sudden commotion. But before the King 
could reach the window to ascertain the 
cause, two horsemen burst into the room, 
with the unfortunate Jonah between them. 

His hands were bound behind his back, 
but his face fairly beamed, as if nothing 
more to his liking could have befallen him. 
He made a low courtesy, then drew himself 
proudly erect, and stood before the King, 
awaiting his pleasure. 

“WeVe caught the fine bird at last, your 


Tales of Modern Germany 67 

Majesty,” said the elder of the captors. 
‘‘But he certainly must have changed his 
plumage in betsveen-times, for your descrip- 
tion fits him as one’s fist fits one’s eyes. 
We never would have found him, had not 
the stupid dolt, in a fit of bragging, told 
us the story himself, while we were all 
stopping at an inn. 

“And what do you suppose he did, when 
we captured and bound him ^ Just laughed 
and sang and danced for joy! And when 
we set him on his horse and mounted ours 
on either side of him, to gallop thither, 
what think you he did ? Scolded and raged 
because we rode not more swiftly. He 
acted for all the world as though he could 
scarcely wait to be beheaded. If he is the 
saddest mortal in Christendom, your Maj- 
esty, I should indeed like to see the merriest!” 

Thereupon the King crossed over to 
where Jonah stood, folded his arms and 


68 Tales of Modern Germany 

said: ''So you are the man who had the 
temerity to allow a Princess to kiss you!” 

"Yes, your Majesty, and I have been the 
happiest man on earth ever since,” laughed 
the other. 

"Lock him up in a dungeon!” roared 
the King. "To-morrow he shall be exe- 
cuted!” 

The horsemen hastened to lead him to 
the dungeon tower, and the King walked 
up and down his chamber, lost in thought. 

"What a terrible affair!” he mused. "I 
have the rascal, it is true, and he shall die 
to-morrow. But will that restore my be- 
loved daughter’s lost happiness?” Then 
he stole softly to her chamber door, to 
listen at the keyhole. But the sounds of 
muffled sobs that reached his ear made him 
shake his head sadly, and retreat to his own 
room. 

After thinking it all over once more, he 


Tales of Modern Germany 69 

sent for his secret counsellor. To him he 
imparted the whole story of the Princess’ 
folly. The latter thought it all over care- 
fully ere he offered his advice. At length 
he said : know not whether it will prove 

effectual, but at any rate, it can do no 
harm to try. 

‘‘ It is known that this Jonah was formerly 
very sad, yet is now the Prince of Jollity. 
Also that our beautiful Princess, who was 
formerly always merry, is now inconsolably 
sad. Therefore, it is plainly evident there 
was magic in the kiss, which worked the 
change. Clearly, the kiss is to blame for 
it all. Likewise, there can be but one 
remedy. J onah must give the Princess back 
her kiss, O your Majesty!” 

But the King waxed wroth, and declared 
such a proceeding quite impossible, and 
quite contrary to all the customs of his race. 

‘‘Your Majesty must regard the entire 


70 Tales of Modern Germany 

affair as an official act, therefore a state 
secret. Then all will be well, once more, 
and no one will dare breathe a word 
about it.’’ 

After arguing the matter at some length, 
the King was won over. So he donned his 
robes of state, and called all his knights and 
courtiers to the presence-chamber. Guards 
were at once despatched to the dungeon to 
lead the prisoner thither. 

As soon as he was seated on the throne, 
the King sent for his daughter, without 
telling her why her presence was desired. 
She came at once and took her place at his 
side. Perfect silence reigned, until the door 
opened to admit Jonah. 

The King addressed the culprit as follows : 
“You shall be beheaded to-morrow, as I 
have already said. But before that event 
takes place, you will now, this very instant, 
and in the presence of my assembled court. 


Tales of Modern Germany 71 

return to my daughter the kiss she so 
rashly bestowed upon you/' 

‘Mf such is your desire, O King,” re- 
turned Jonah, will most gladly comply 
with your request. And were it possible 
for mortal man to be more happy than I 
am at the present moment, no doubt I shall 
speedily become so.” 

“We shall see,” interrupted the King, 
harshly; “it is just possible that there may 
be a mistake in your calculations this time.” 

But Jonah, his face wreathed in smiles, 
did not appear to be listening. Instead, 
he crossed over to where the Princess stood, 
took her tenderly in his arms and bestowed 
a rapturous kiss upon her lips. “By the 
order of the King,” he whispered, laugh- 
ingly. She clasped her arms around his 
neck, and there they stood, lost in ecstasy. 

“Well, my daughter, are you happy once 
more?” broke in the King. 


72 Tales of Modern Germany 

“A little bit, dear father,’’ answered the 
Princess, ‘‘but you know it will not be for 
long.” 

“Yes, yes,” returned the latter, “I see. 
If the scheme had been a success, he would 
have become sorrowful again, by this time. 
But there he stands, as smiling and as un- 
abashed as ever. Whatever shall we do?” 

Then the Princess dropped her eyes and 
softly answered, “ I know, dear father, and I 
shall tell you, but it must be told in secret.” 

Thereupon the King retired into the 
ante-chamber, and what took place there, 
none ever knew. Only when they returned, 
the King led her straight over to Jonah, 
placed her hand in his, and spake to the 
assembled court: “Courtiers and friends, it 
is useless to struggle against Fate. God’s 
will be done! This is my dear son, who 
will reign in my stead, when I die. I bid 
you give him welcome,” 


Tales of Modem Germany 73 

And so Jonah became a prince and went 
to live in the stately palace, and he gave 
the Princess so many kisses that in time 
she became even happier than before. 
And he was no longer Jonah. No, indeed! 
Instead she called him by the prettiest 
names she could think of, a different one 
each day, and each one lovelier than the 
last. 



THE WATER-SPRITE’S FIDDLE- 
STICK 


There was once a little boy named Fred- 
erick, who had neither father nor mother. 
He was such a beautiful child, that when 
he played on the street outside his door, 
people stopped to look at him and ask, 
“To whom does the little one belong?” 

Then the surly old woman who had raised 
him on thin broth and plentiful scoldings, 
would answer, “He is a poor little orphan, 
and the best thing for him would be if his 
Heavenly Father would see fit to take him 
home.” 

But Frederick had no longings for the 
kingdom of Heaven. He was very well 
satisfied with things as they were down 

here, and he throve like the red thistle be- 
75 


76 Tales of Modern Germany 

hind his foster mother’s house. He had 
no playmates. When the other boys of 
the village built bark canoes, and sent 
them floating down the mill-pond, or 
romped together in the hay, Frederick sat 
in the meadows, imitating the whistle of 
the different birds. 

One day, while engaged in this pleasing 
occupation, he was approached by old 
Nick, a bird-catcher by trade. He was 
greatly impressed by the boy’s beauty and 
cleverness, and made overtures of friend- 
ship. From that time on, the two were in- 
separable, and could be frequently seen 
before the hut of the bird-catcher, sitting 
close together, and chatting like two old 
companions-in-arms. 

Nick not only knew how to relate wonder- 
ful tales of the forest, but he also could play 
on the fiddle, and undertook to instruct 
Frederick in this art, having first presented 


Tales of Modem Germany 77 

him with an old fiddle, which he had 
mended for him. 

His pupil certainly did him credit, for 
before a month had passed, Frederick could 
play several popular songs quite well indeed. 
The old bird-catcher was highly elated, 
and predicted that if God spared his life, 
Frederick would some day be first violin 
at church consecrations. 

When the lad was fifteen years old, all 
the neighbors met together in solemn con- 
clave to hold discourse over him. They 
decided that it was about time for him to 
learn something properly useful, with which 
to earn his living. 

When they asked him what he would 
like to be, he answered, ''A musician.’’ 
Whereupon the good people held up their 
hands in horror. Then from among them 
a man who was held in high regard stepped 
forward, grasped the boy’s hand, and said, 


78 Tales of Modern Germany 

with dignity, ‘‘ I will try to make something 
worthy out of him.” 

Then all the neighbors crowded around 
him, and congratulated him, for they con- 
sidered him very fortunate to have found 
such a master. He was a man of no little 
importance. He shaved the peasants’ hair 
and beards, bled the fever patients, pulled 
out bad teeth, and occasionally good ones, 
by mistake. He was the village barber, 
but people always referred to him as the 
doctor, for in those days the village barber 
was also a surgeon and a dentist, as you 
may perhaps have heard before. 

On the same day, Frederick entered the 
house of his employer, and began his duties 
by fetching his master’s beer from the ale- 
house. Gradually he learned how to make 
lather and strop a razor, and to do all the 
other things pertaining to his profession. 

His master was pleased with him in every 


Tales of Modern Germany 79 

respect except his music. For he would 
persist in practicing zealously every spare 
moment he found. This according to the 
barber’s view was a mere waste of time, 
since music belonged to the profitless arts. 

Thus two years passed by. Then there 
came a day upon which Frederick was to 
make a test of his skill as apprentice. If 
it met with his master’s approval he would 
become a journeyman, and might start out 
into the world, to seek his fortune while 
traveling. The test consisted of shaving 
his master’s beard satisfactorily, and that 
was no joke, I can assure you. 

The eventful day came round. The 
barber sat in the chair, a white towel 
around his neck, and leaned back. Fred- 
erick lathered his stout double-chin, stropped 
the razor and began his task. 

But suddenly, outside the door were 
heard the sound of violin and flute. A 


8o 


Tales of Modern Germany 


bear-leader with a dancing bear was passing 
that way. When the apprentice heard the 
music, his hand involuntarily twitched, and 
left a long, bloody gash from his ear to his 
nose, across his master’s cheek. 

Alas! poor Frederick! The chair upon 
which the barber sat was thrown hastily 
backward onto the floor. In a raging fury 
the bleeding man sprang upon his pupil 
and gave him a ringing box on the ear. 
Then he threw open the door, pointed to it, 
and cried, ‘‘Go to the cuckoo!” 

Thereupon Frederick packed his various 
belongings, took his fiddle under his arm, 
and went to the cuckoo. Now the cuckoo 
lived in an oak tree in the forest, and, as 
luck would have it, chanced to be at home 
when Frederick called. He patiently heard 
the young man’s story through to the end, 
then shook his wings and said: 

“Young friend, if I wished to help every- 


Tales of Modem Germany 8i 

one who is sent to me, I should have my 
hands more than full. Times are very 
hard, and I am glad that I have been able 
to dispose of my own children tolerably 
well. I have put my eldest son out to 
board in the family of wagtails. Neighbor 
Redstart has taken my second son into his 
house, while my third, who is a girl, has 
been adopted by an old hedge-sparrow. 
My friend, the wren, is taking care of my 
two youngest ones. As for myself, I must 
keep on the go from morn till night to 
make both ends meet. For the last four- 
teen days I have subsisted entirely upon 
hairy caterpillars, and I am sure your 
stomach could never stand such food. No, 
sorry though I am to say so, I can do 
nothing to help you.’’ 

Thereat Frederick hung his head sorrow- 
fully, said good-bye, and went away. He 
had not gone far, however, when the bird 


82 Tales of Modern Germany 

called after him: ‘‘Stop, Frederick, perhaps 
I can help you, after all. An idea has just 
occurred to me. Come along.’^ 

Saying which he spread his wings, and 
flew along ahead of Frederick. The latter 
had some difficulty in following his leader, 
since the undergrowth was very dense, and 
thorn hedges were plentiful along the way. 
At last the sunlight was visible between 
the trunks of the trees, and shone sparkling 
on the water. 

“Here we are,” said the cuckoo, alighting 
on an alder bough. Before them lay a 
dark green fish-pond, which was fed by a 
foaming waterfall. Reeds and yellow irises 
grew along its bank, and snowy water-lilies, 
with their broad green leaves, floated on 
its surface. 

“Now watch out,” said the clever bird. 
“When the sun sinks, and the spray of the 
waterfall gleams with the seven colors of 







« 





A 


<A • . 





c 


I 



♦ 







V 



« 

« 

» 

1 * 


’• •'.» #. 

* 

• * ' 





ff 


* 


« 


t 



» 



* 


> 


'Tf ( 




/ 


« 





. ' "s. 


/ 


I 


< 


I 






(F- 83) 


WATCHING FOR THE WATER SPRITE 



Tales of Modern Germany 83 

the rainbow, then the water-sprite will come 
up from the bottom of the pond, where he 
dwells in a crystal palace, and sit on the 
shore. But do not be afraid. On the con- 
trary, speak to him, and the rest will follow 
of itself.^’ 

Frederick gratefully thanked the cuckoo, 
who winged his swift flight back into the 
forest. When the spray of the waterfall 
gleamed with the seven colors of the rain- 
bow, sure enough! the water sprite came 
up from his crystal palace. 

He had on a red coat and a white collar. 
His hair was green, and hung down to his 
shoulders in a tangled mane. He seated 
himself on a rock, which reared itself above 
the glassy surface of the water, and let his 
feet dangle in the pond, while he began to 
comb his hair with his ten fingers. 

It was a tedious task, for tangled in its 
thick masses were seaweed, duckweed, and 


84 Tales of Modern Germany 

little snail-shells, and while he was combing 
it, he made a very wry face. 

“This is exactly the right time for my 
interview,^’ said Frederick to himself. 

Thereupon, he screwed up his courage 
and emerged from the alder hedge, where 
he had until now been hiding. He lifted 
his hat, and said in his most polite way, 
“Good evening. Master Sprite.” 

But no sooner had his voice broken the 
stillness, than the sprite plumped into the 
water and dove beneath like a frightened 
frog. In a little while he ventured to 
stretch his head out of the water and ask 
in no friendly tones, “Well, what do you 
want ? ” 

“I am an experienced barber,” began 
Frederick, “and with your kind permission 
I should like to comb your hair for you. 
Indeed, I should consider it a great honor 
if you would allow me to do so.” 


Tales of Modem Germany 85 

Thereupon the sprite climbed out of the 
stream, and exclaimed rejoicingly, “ Indeed, 
you come at a most opportune moment. 
What trouble and vexation have I not had 
with my hair since my aunt, the Lorelei, 
so basely deserted me. And after all I 
have done for her, the ungrateful creature. 
One morning she disappeared, and my 
golden comb was also missing. Now, I am 
told, she sits on a rock in the Rhine, making 
love to a boatman in a little skifif. My 
golden comb will soon be gone.’^ 

With these words he took a seat on a 
stone, and Frederick drew forth his shaving 
outfit, fastened a white towel round his 
neck, and combed and oiled his hair till it 
was as smooth as silk. Then he parted it in 
the middle, from his forehead to his neck, 
took off the towel and scraped a sweeping 
bow. The sprite got up, and looked 
with approval at his image in the water. 


86 Tales of Modern Germany 

“What do you charge ?” he asked. 

Frederick was about to make his usual 
reply, “As much as you wish to pay,’’ 
when fortunately it occurred to him that 
there is no time like the present, and 
that one should strike while the iron is hot. 
So he cleared his throat, and began the story 
of his life. 

“And so you would like to become a 
musician?” asked the sprite, when Fred- 
erick was through. “Well, take your fiddle 
and let me hear you play.” 

Whereupon the young man took his fiddle, - 
tuned the strings, and played his best piece^ 
and as he finished, he looked expectantly 
at the sprite. 

The latter merely grinned and made a 
wry face. Then he reached among the 
reeds and drew forth a violin and bow, 
which he adjusted and began to play upon. 
Such playing poor Frederick had never 


Tales of Modern Germany 87 

heard. At first it sounded like the wind 
sighing among the reeds, then like the rag- 
ing of a waterfall, and last of all, like a 
gently flowing stream. 

The birds in the branches overhead 
hushed their singing; the bees ceased their 
humming, and even the fishes raised their 
heads out of the pond to listen to the sweet 
strains. Tears came into Frederick’s eyes, 
and he raised his hands entreatingly, and 
said, '‘Please, Master Sprite, take me as 
your pupil!” 

"That is impossible,” replied the sprite. 
"It is also unnecessary. For if you will 
but leave me your comb, I promise you 
that you shall become the greatest musician 
the world has ever known — a violinist with- 
out a rival. 

Frederick rejoiced. "You may have my 
entire outfit, if you wish,” he cried, impul- 
sively, reaching it to him as he spoke. The 


88 Tales of Modern Germany 

sprite grasped it eagerly, and instantly sank 
beyond view. 

‘'Wait a moment, wait a moment,’’ cried 
the poor young man. But he might as well 
have spared his breath, for no ripple stirred 
the placid surface of the water. He waited 
one hour, he waited two, but neither saw 
nor heard anything of the sprite. 

Poor Frederick sighed deeply. It was 
plainly evident to him that the false sprite 
had basely betrayed him. But what was 
that lying at his feet, as he turned to go — 
whither, he knew not ? It was nothing 
more nor less than the sprite’s fiddle stick, 
lying there at the water’s edge! He stooped 
to pick it up, and as he did so it sent an 
electric shock from his finger-tips to his 
very shoulder-blades. And what was more, 
it seemed to impel him to try it on his 
fiddle. 

He started to play a popular air entitled, 


Tales of Modern Germany 89 

“What Shall a Poor Fellow Do?” but no 
sooner had his hand grasped the bow, than 
an unseen power seemed to guide his fingers, 
and the strings breathed forth such sweet 
slivery strains as he had never before heard, 
except the time the sprite played his 
violin. 

The birds came fluttering thither, and 
settled on the boughs to listen; the fishes 
swam to the surface of the pond, and the 
timid deer and does came out of the forest 
and stood near him to listen, with eyes that 
seemed almost human in their intelli- 
gence. 

And Frederick knew not how it came to 
pass, but every beautiful thought which 
came surging through his mind and soul 
found instant expression through his hand, 
and rang out in tones of piercing sweetness 
on his old brown fiddle. Even the sprite 
emerged from his crystal palace, to nod 


90 Tales of Modern Germany 

approvingly at Frederick from the surface 
of the water. Then he disappeared to be 
seen no more. 

And Frederick, still playing as in a dream, 
emerged from the forest, and wandered for 
many years through all the kingdoms of the 
earth, playing before kings and emperors. 
Gold was fairly showered upon him, and 
he might have become a very wealthy man, 
had he not been so truly a musician. But 
as we all know, no true artists ever accumu- 
late fortunes. 

He had given away his shaving outfit, 
and therefore he was compelled to let his 
hair grow long, like Samson’s. The other 
musicians observed this, and soon began to 
imitate him, which did not disturb him in 
the least, since imitation is the sincerest 
flattery. 

And from that time to the present day, 
musicians have affected long, bushy hair. 


THE DESERTED GRAVE 


The churchyard, in which the children 
were wont to play, lay high up on the green 
mountain slope. The village to which it 
belonged lay so high above the wooded 
valley, that it was often hidden from view 
by the clouds, as one passed by, on the blue 
stream below. The churchyard, however, 
lay so high above the village, that its many 
black crosses towered up into the very blue 
of the heavens. 

It was considerable trouble for the vil- 
lagers to carry their dead up to the church- 
yard, for the path was steep and stony, until 
one reached the grassy meadows where the 
graves lay. Yet they did it willingly, for 
the mountain folks cannot live in a valley. 

A valley seems as dark and narrow to them 
91 


92 Tales of Modern Germany 

as a deep cellar would to us. Much less 
would they bury their dead there. 

No, indeed! Their dead must be buried 
high up on the mountain, where one can 
see far out over the land and down into the 
valley below, where the ships sail past. In 
one corner of the churchyard was a neglected 
grave, upon which grew only grass and a 
few wild flowers which nobody had ever 
planted. For it belonged to an old bachelor 
who had left neither wife nor children to 
look after him. 

He had come thither from foreign realms, 
none knew exactly where. Every morning 
he would climb to the top of the mountain, 
where he would sit for hours. But he had 
lived only a short time, and had been buried 
in the spot most dear to him. 

He must have had a name, though none 
had ever heard it. In the church records 
his death was registered with three crosses 


Tales of Modern Germany 93 

followed by the words, “An old bachelor, 
died on such and such a day, of such and 
such a month, in the year of our Lord, so 
and so/’ All of which was little enough. 

But the two children, whose father was 
the sexton, were extremely fond of this 
particular grave. Probably because they 
were permitted to play and walk upon it 
as much as they pleased, while they dared 
not so much as touch one of the other 
graves. 

These were all carefully tended; the 
grass was always freshly cut and as smooth 
as velvet. Then there were all kinds of 
flowers growing on them, which the sexton 
watered daily with great pains, since he 
had to carry the water up from the village. 
There were also wreaths and flowers tied 
with bright ribbons on many of the graves. 

One day the children were playing as 
usual in their favorite spot. The little boy 


94 


Tales of Modern Germany 


was kneeling before the grave, looking with 
great satisfaction at a hole which he had 
dug in its side with his little hands. 

Katherine,’’ he called, ‘‘our house is 
finished. I have plastered it with bright 
colored pebbles, and strewn flower petals 
over it. Come, I’ll be the father, and you 
the mother.” 

Katherine came running. “Good morn- 
ing, father.” 

“Good morning, mother,” he answered. 
“How are our children this morning?” 

“John,” exclaimed the little maid, “you 
play far too quickly! I have no children 
as yet, but I will soon find a few.” Saying 
which, she disappeared among the graves 
and bushes, and soon returned with both 
hands full of snails. 

“See, father,” she cried, all dimples, “I 
have now seven children, seven lovely little 
snail children.” 


Tales of Modern Germany 95 

“Then you would better put them to 
bed at once, as it is already late,’’ returned 
John. 

The little girl plucked some leaves, which 
she laid in the hole, placed the snails upon 
them, and covered each one over with a 
green leaf. 

“Now you keep still, John,” she called 
out. “I must sing the children to sleep, 
and I must do it all by myself. The father 
never helps sing the children to sleep. You 
can go on with your work till I’m through.” 

So John went away, and Katherine sang 
a lullaby in a sweet little voice. But of a 
sudden one leaf began to stir, and a snail 
stuck its little head out of its shell. The 
little one tapped its head with her finger 
and said, ‘‘Just you wait, Gustave, you are 
always the naughty one ! Early this morn- 
ing you would not let me comb your hair. 
Will you go to sleep at once ? ” 


g6 Tales of Modern Germany 

Then she went on with her singing, and 
sure enough, before she was through, they 
were all fast asleep. At least, they were 
perfectly quiet. John did not return im- 
mediately, so the little maiden stole away, 
and wandered about the churchyard, in 
search of more snails. 

She gathered a great number in her 
apron, and then returned to the grave, 
where she found John awaiting her. 

“Father,’’ she called to him, “I have 
found a hundred more.” 

“Listen, wife,” returned the small boy, 
sensibly, “a hundred children are a great 
many indeed. We have only one doll- 
plate and a couple of doll-forks. How in 
the world are the children going to eat ? 
Besides, no mother ever has one hundred 
children, and there are not one hundred 
names. Take them back again.” 

“No, John,” said the little one, “a hun- 


Tales of Modern Germany 97 

dred children are very nice indeed. I need 
every one of them/’ 

Just then the sexton’s wife appeared with 
two large slices of bread and butter, for it 
was vesper time and they had had nothing 
to eat since noon. She kissed the children, 
sat them upon the grave, and told them not 
to get butter on their clean clothes. So 
they sat as still as mice, and ate their bread 
and butter. 

Now the dead man, lying so quietly in 
his grave below, had been listening to it 
all; for the dead can hear every word which 
is spoken at their graves. 

It recalled the time when he himself had 
been a child. There had been another, 
also, a little girl with whom he played. 
Then he thought of a later time, when he had 
seen her once again — this time a full-grown 
woman. After that, he had never heard of 
her again, for he had gone on his own way. 


98 Tales of Modern Germany 

And indeed, it could not have been a very 
nice way, for the more he thought of it, 
and the longer he listened to the innocent 
prattle of the children, the sadder and 
sadder he grew. At last he began to weep. 
And when their mother sat the children on 
the grave, directly over his breast, the more 
and more he wept. He tried to stretch 
forth his arms, to clasp them to his heart, 
but could not. 

Not a muscle could he move, for over him 
lay six feet of earth, and six feet of earth is 
a heavy weight, I assure you, especially 
over one’s heart. So he cried and cried, 
ever harder and harder, even after the 
mother had taken her children away and 
put them to bed. 

And what do you think was the end of 
his tears ? You will never believe it, I am 
sure. But the next morning, when the 
sexton went through the churchyard, he 


Tales of Modem Germany 99 

found a little spring gushing forth from the 
deserted grave. It was the tears the dead 
man had shed, and they bubbled directly 
out of the little hole which the children had 
dug for their playhouse. 

How the sexton rejoiced! No longer 
would he have to carry water up the steep 
path from the village. So he made a little 
channel for the spring, and lined its banks 
with large confining stones, to keep it in its 
channel. 

And ever afterwards he watered the 
graves from the new spring, and the flowers 
seemed to bloom far brighter and more 
beautiful than before. He took no pains, 
however, with the grave from which the 
water gushed forth, for it was only an old 
neglected one, about which there was no 
one to ask. 

But despite this fact, the mountain wild- 
flowers grew more abundantly here than in 


loo Tales of Modern Germany 

any other spot, making it fully as beautiful 
as any other grave. And here the children 
loved to sit, through the long summer hours, 
building mill-dams or floating paper boats 
on the sparkling water. 


THE WISHING RING 


A young man, who had formerly been 
unprosperous as an innkeeper, and was 
now a farmer, sat upon his plow one day, 
and rested for a moment, while he wiped 
the sweat from his brow. An old witch 
happened to pass by, and asked, ‘‘Why do 
you work so hard, when it avails you 
naught? Journey straight ahead for two 
days, until you reach a pine tree in the 
forest, which stands apart by itself, and 
towers above every other tree around. Cut 
it down and your fortune will be made.’’ 

The farmer needed no second bidding, 
but straightway shouldered his axe, and 
started on his quest. And exactly two days 
later he came upon the tree. He hastened 
to fell it, and no sooner had it crashed to the 

lOI 


102 Tales of Modern Germany 

ground than from its topmost boughs there 
fell a nest. 

Two eggs rolled out of the nest and broke 
upon the ground; and as they broke, a 
young eagle emerged from one, while from 
the other fell a ring of gold. The eagle 
grew before his very eyes, until it attained 
one-half the height of an ordinary man. 
Then it spread its wings as though it were 
anxious to try them, soared a little distance 
from the ground, and cried: 

‘‘You have given me my freedom. Take 
the ring which was in the other egg as a 
token of my thanks. It is a wishing ring. 
If you turn it round your finger and make a 
wish, your wish will be immediately ful- 
filled. But, remember, there is only one 
wish in the ring. Therefore, consider well 
before you wish, that you may have no 
regrets later on."’ 

Thereupon the eagle soared high in the 


Tales of Modern Germany 103 

air, circled slowly above the farmer’s head, 
and then winged its way straight as an 
arrow toward the east. The man took the 
ring, put it on his finger, and hastened 
homeward. 

Toward evening he reached a little town, 
where he chanced to see a goldsmith stand- 
ing in front of his shop. Many costly rings 
were on sale. The farmer showed his ring 
and asked what it was worth. 

‘‘A fig,” replied the goldsmith. 

At that the farmer laughed loud and 
merrily, and assured him it was a wishing 
ring, and worth more than all the rings 
together, which he had on sale. 

Now the goldsmith was a base deceiver, 
and as tricky as he was deceitful. So he 
invited the farmer to stay over night with 
him, saying: ‘‘To entertain a man like you, 
with such a gem in his possession, is sure 
to bring one good luck.” He entertained 


104 Tales of Modern Germany 

him with his choicest wines and smoothest 
words, and put him to bed in his best 
chamber. 

But in the dead of night, while the farmer 
lay sunk in sleep, the goldsmith stole softly 
into his room, and carefully removed the 
wishing ring from his finger. Then, just as 
carefully, he replaced it with an ordinary 
ring, which to all outward appearances was 
identical with the one he stole. 

The next day, he could scarcely wait for 
the farmer to take his departure. He 
awoke him very early, saying: ‘‘You have 
a long journey ahead of you, so it will be to 
your advantage to get an early start. 

As soon as he had gone, the jeweller 
locked his shop, hastened into his own 
room, where no prying eyes might see him, 
and locked and bolted the door. Then 
he stood in the centre of the room, turned 
the ring round on his finger, and cried, “I 


Tales of Modern Germany 105 

want a hundred thousand dollars im- 
mediately!'’ 

Scarcely had the words left his lips ere 
it began to rain silver dollars. Down they 
poured, hard and shining, like water in a 
trough. They struck his head, his breast, 
and shoulders. He began to shriek with 
pain, and sprang to the door to escape. 
But before he could reach it, he was felled 
to the ground, and lay there faint and 
bleeding. And still the dollars came, like 
a veritable silver hail-storm, until the floor 
collapsed beneath the strain. It caved in, 
and the poor goldsmith with all his wealth 
fell into the dark cellar. And still the 
dollars continued to fall upon his lifeless 
form, until a hundred thousand had de- 
scended. 

The neighbors heard the noise and came 
running thither. And when they beheld 
the goldsmith lying dead beneath all those 


io6 Tales of Modern Germany 

hard shining dollars, they said, ''Verily, it 
it a great misfortune to have too much 
money fall to one’s lot. Then came the 
jeweller’s heirs, who divided it all up among 
themselves, and so, in the end, it had 
availed him naught. 

Meanwhile the farmer proceeded on his 
way home, with a heart full of rejoicing. 
He showed the ring to his wife, and said, 
"This time it cannot fail! Our fortune is 
made. But we will think it all over care- 
fully, ere we decide upon our wish.” 

His wife was ready with her advice. 
"Suppose we wish for that triangular piece 
of land adjoining ours. We have always 
wanted it.” 

"It’s not worth while,” returned her hus- 
band. "If we have a little patience and 
work diligently, we can soon save enough 
to buy those few acres.” 

So they worked most industriously for a 


Tales of Modern Germany 107 

year, and never before had they had such 
a plentiful harvest. They were not only 
able to buy the coveted piece of land, but 
they even had a little money left over. 

‘‘See,’^ said the man with great joy, ‘‘we 
not only have the land we wished, but our 
wish itself is intact.” 

“Yes, indeed,” replied his wife, “and a 
good thing it is, for now we can buy a horse 
and cow.” 

But he only jingled the money in his 
pockets and asked, “Why should we waste 
our precious wish on such beggarly trifles ? 
We need only work hard a little longer, and 
we can soon earn our horse and cow.” 

And sure enough, at the end of the second 
year, both horse and cow stood in their 
stalls. Then the man rubbed his hands 
together in content and said, “Well, our 
wish is spared us for another year, and we 
have everything for which we longed. 


io8 Tales of Modern Gerniany 

Haven’t we had the most wonderful good 
luck?” 

But his wife begged him earnestly to 
make up his mind what he wanted, and to 
wish for it. He steadfastly refused to waste 
his wish, when they could so easily earn 
what they needed. At length she became 
angry and exclaimed, ‘H hardly recognize 
you, now-a-days! Formerly you did noth- 
ing but grumble, and pity yourself, and 
wish for everything under the sun. Now 
when it is really in your power to have any- 
thing you please, you hem and haw and 
make excuses, and are content with every- 
thing that come along. Why you are letting 
our best years slip by. You might be a 
count, a king, or even an emperor, with his 
coffers filled with gold. But no! You can’t 
make up your mind what to choose!” 

‘‘Oh, stop your everlasting urging and 
nagging,” rejoined her husband. “We are 


Tales of Modern Germany 109 

both still young, and life is long. Remem- 
ber, there is but one wish in the ring, and 
that is soon used up. The time may come 
when we shall be really hard-pressed, and 
how handy the wish will be then! What 
ails you, anyway ? What do you want ? 
Haven’t we everything we could possibly 
need ? 

‘‘Since I got the ring, haven’t we pros- 
pered so that everyone is marveling at our 
good fortune ? Do be reasonable. In the 
meantime, you can be considering what we 
would better wish for.” And that was the 
end of their dispute. 

It really did seem as though the ring had 
brought a blessing with it, and in the course 
of time, the little farm became a very large 
one, upon whose many acres many servants 
were employed. And the farmer, despite all 
his wealth and prosperity, continued to work 
as hard as ever, from sheer force of habit. 


no Tales of Modern Germany 

But in the evening, when he had finished 
his supper, he would sit on his doorstep, in 
the falling twilight, smoking his pipe con- 
tentedly, and wishing his neighbors good 
evening. Thus many years sped by. Oc- 
casionally, when they were all by themselves, 
with no one near to overhear them, she 
would make him all sorts of propositions 
concerning the wish. But he always replied 
that they had ample time left. And as 
time went on, they spoke of it less and less 
frequently, and finally ceased to mention it 
at all. 

Not that they had forgotten it. Far 
from it; for a dozen times a day he would 
turn it around on his finger, as though 
about to make a wish. But he always 
carefully guarded his lips from speaking it 
aloud. Thirty years slipped by, then forty. 
The farmer and his wife were old and gray, 
and still the wish remained unuttered. 


Tales of Modern Germany in 

Then the gracious- All-Father blessed 
them both, and summoned them both to 
their final reward, in the self-same night. 
Children and grand-children wept around 
their bier, and refused to be comforted. 
One of them started to remove the ring 
from the old man’s finger, with the in- 
tention of preserving it as a treasured keep- 
sake, but the eldest son interfered, saying: 

‘‘ Leave it where it is. He kept its history 
a secret all his life long. Let him carry it 
with him into the grave. It is probably an 
old love token. Our blessed mother also 
often looked at it, as though she, too, knew 
its secret. If the truth were known, she 
probably gave it to him herself, when they 
were young.” 

So the wishing ring, which in reality was 
no wishing ring, was buried with him, and 
he never knew the truth. It certainly had 
brought them all the happiness and good 


1 12 Tales of Modern Germany 

fortune one could desire, and the original 
ring could have done no more. So you see, 
dear children, that it all depends upon who 
holds possession of a thing. For even the 
best of things in evil hands may prove a 
curse rather than a blessing. 


THE FORGOTTEN CHIME 


Many, many years ago, there lived a 
man who had grown wholly out of sym- 
pathy with his friends and things in gen- 
eral. Finally he betook himself to the 
forest, where he built himself a hermitage, 
and renouncing the world and its follies, 
he found peace and quietude in a simple 
woodland life. 

Near his abode was a forest chapel, 
which boasted only a painting of a sad- 
faced Madonna, an altar, and one tiny bell. 
The hermit took upon himself the task of 
ringing the bell once every day. Close to 
the chapel was a cool, purling brook bub- 
bling out of the ground, at which he slaked 
his thirst. 

For food he ate the' wild fruits of the 

1 13 


1 14 Tales of Modern Germany 

forest, except when the simple-hearted peas- 
ants of the neighboring villages brought him 
their wholesome offerings of home-made 
bread and cake and jelly, with an occasional 
cold roast or pot-pie. 

Thus he lived peacefully for many years, 
ere he was gathered to his final rest. Then 
one day, some peasants found him, lying 
on his lowly bed, with his hands folded 
peacefully across his motionless breast. 
And they wept tears of sorrow and regret, 
declaring that they would never again meet 
so pious a hermit. 

And indeed they were right. For from 
that time on, the hermitage was deserted, 
except when some roving huntsman bent 
his footsteps thither, or when some maid 
went to the brook to fill her jug. The straw 
roof became covered with patches of dark 
moss, and blackberry bushes and clematis 
pushed their rank way up to the very 


Tales of Modern Germany 115 

windows. The field mice made their homes 
in the hermit’s leafy couch, while the red- 
start built his nest in the very altar. The 
forest and its denizens closed in on their 
former possession. 

Spring was about to make its entry, and 
the Earth was preparing to awake from its 
long winter sleep. The South-wind was 
wafted over the sea, on dewy pinions. It 
rustled the trees gently, and the pine cones 
and dry twigs fell to the ground. 

The streams and brooks awoke, and gur- 
gled softly over their pebbles to hasten on 
their winding way. The snowdrops and 
anemones raised their timid heads amid 
the forest moss. The showy spurge-laurel 
put on a red silk robe, and the hoopee, with 
its brilliant crest, announced the arrival of 
the cuckoo. The hedges shook off their 
last dead leaves, and with swelling buds 
awaited the call of Spring. 


ii6 Tales of Modern Germany 

The deserted bell in the crumbling bel- 
fry looked sadly at all these preparations 
for Easter. In former years, when the bells 
pealed out their happy Easter chimes, it 
also had raised its voice, and had sung in 
chorus with its haughty church tower sisters. 
But that time had long since passed. 

No hand had touched its cord at Easter- 
time since the death of the hermit. There 
it hung, silent and forgotten, in the little 
belfry, and no worse fate can befall a bell 
than to be silent at Easter-time. 

It was Holy Week. On Ash Wednesday 
the hare came bounding through the forest, 
and stopped in front of the chapel, to see 
if the little bell had any errands for him to 
do in town. ‘‘I am on my way thither,’’ 
he said. “I have been chosen for the 
Easter rabbit, and have my hands so full 
that I don’t know which end my head is 
on.” But the bell remained silent, and the 
hare sped on its way. 


Tales of Modern Germany 117 

The next night a great noise was heard 
on all sides. The deer fled to cover, think- 
ing the Wild Huntsman was abroad. It 
was not the Wild Huntsman, however; it 
was the bells flying toward Rome, to obtain 
the Pope’s blessing. The bell from the 
cloister on the mountain across the way 
came over and stopped a moment to chat 
with the deserted bell. 

‘‘Are you not coming along?” it asked. 

‘H should dearly love to,” lamented the 
little bell, ‘‘but I have been idle all year 
long, and therefore dare not. But if you 
really wish to do me a favor, I beg of you, 
speak a good word for me, when you see 
the Holy Father in Rome. Perchance he 
may send someone to ring me on Easter 
Sunday. Will you do me the favor ? ” 

The cloister bell muttered something 
about its not being possible. Then raising 
itself like a clumsy bird, it flew along after 


ii8 Tales of Modern Germany 

the others. The forgotten bell was dis- 
consolate. 

‘‘ Be content that they leave you in peace/" 
said the Owl. ‘‘These stupid forest crea- 
tures know nothing about chimes, and be- 
sides, they would disturb my meditations. 
But I "11 build my nest near you, so that 
you may not feel entirely deserted. And 
you will profit thereby, for I am one from 
whom you may learn a great deal."" 

Easter morning dawned. The mists still 
clung to the mountain sides. The cool 
morning breezes set the tree-tops rustling 
like the soft tones of a harp. The first 
streaks of sunrise gilded the tops of the 
mountains, and the pine trees sighed and 
stretched out their branches, as though just 
awakening from sleep. 

Then the sun rose higher and higher in 
the heavens, the forest birds began to flutter 
in their leafy nests, and to lift up their 


Tales of Modern Germany 119 

sweet voices in a song of praise. Only the 
little bell remained sad and silent. 

In the selfsame hour, a young man passed 
along the highway leading through the 
forest. He wore a leather jerkin and a 
feather in his hat. A broad hunting knife, 
with a deer-horn handle, and a rifle hung 
at his left side. He carried a heavily- 
packed bag of badger-skin slung across his 
shoulders. 

This, together with the staff of black- 
thorn which he carried in his right hand, 
betrayed the fact that he was not out hunt- 
ing, but setting out on a long journey. A 
little farther on, a pathway led off from 
the main road towards the old mill. And 
at this point, the stranger stayed his steps 
for a moment, as though undecided which 
way to go. But he quickly made up his 
mind. Casting a gloomy look in the direc- 
tion of the mill, he tossed his head in dis- 


120 Tales of Modem Germany 

dain, and let such a lusty huntsman’s call 
escape him, that the forest rang with the 
echo. Then he strode along, singing: 

“You cool, green, leafy forest glades, 

Farewell, our pathways sever. 

For Fame in distant lands to seek, 

I leave you now forever. 

A huntsman, I, 

With practised eye 
And skillful in the chase. 

Now take my flight 
To seek the fight 
And bloody battle-place.” 

“A lame gray falcon, in the woods, 

Sits pining night and day. 

A magic spell enthralls him there; 

He cannot fly away. 

For a nest, he’d change 
Broad Freedom’s range, 

He fain no more would roam. 

The spell is o’er. 

Rise, falcon, soar! 

And wing your swift flight home.” 


Tales of Modern Germany 121 

But the last words came with difficulty, 
and the half-suppressed sigh at its close 
accorded ill with the light-hearted song. 
Suddenly the young stranger left the high- 
way, and struck across the forest in the 
direction of the hermitage. He stopped at 
the brook to quench his thirst, and drank 
its cool clear water out of a wooden cup 
which he carried. 

He emptied the last few drops on the 
ground, saying, '‘Well, it’s all over now.” 

The pure cool water had evidently failed 
to cool him, for he sank on the moss, under 
the shade of a tree, near the hermitage, 
and covered his face with both hands. 
And while he is resting here, let me tell 
you his story. 

The previous summer he had returned 
to his native land after a long absence, 
and entered into the employ of the old 
gamekeeper. He had seen a good bit of 


122 Tales of Modern Germany 

the world in his day. He had scaled the 
Alps and hunted chamois in company with 
the Emperor’s retinue of huntsmen. He 
had followed them to the brilliant hunting 
palaces, where he had beheld the gay as- 
semblies of courtiers and beautiful ladies 
of high degree. 

Yet no matter where he had chanced to 
roam, he had carried with him enshrined 
in his faithful heart, the image of the 
miller’s daughter. He had returned to his 
old home with a heart full of sweet hopes, 
and a snug little sum of money which he 
had saved. It had all come to naught. 
His dream of happiness was shattered, and 
he was hastening away to offer his services 
as a soldier in foreign climes. 

And this is how it happened. He had 
met her for the first time after his return, 
here at this very brook, whither she had 
come to draw water. He remained hidden 


Tales of Modern Germany 123 

close by, until she knelt to fill her pitcher. 
Then he sprang forth with a cry of joy, 
and attempted to clasp her in his arms. 
She was very much frightened, until she 
recognized him. Then her fright gave way 
to anger, and following its impulse she 
pushed him over backwards, and hastened 
from the place. 

Later on he tried to make amends for his 
thoughtlessness. It was at the Harvest 
Festival, when old and young were wending 
their joyous way to the place where the 
dancing was going on. He waylaid the 
pretty maiden, and greeting her in the most 
friendly manner, had offered her a fragrant 
nosegay of spice carnations. 

No sooner had she recognized the donor, 
than she turned on her heel, and hastened 
back to her father’s mill. The poor hunter 
was wholly disheartened, and threw the 
unoffending flowers in the brook. How 


124 - Tales of Modern Germany 

could he know that the contrary creature 
afterward fished them out of the mill-dam 
and treasured them most carefully till they 
died ? 

A great anger against her rose in his 
heart. ‘'Very well/’ he thought, “you go 
your way, I’ll go mine.” And that she 
might not have the satisfaction of knowing 
that he took her treatment to heart, he 
gathered together a few choice spirits, and 
pretty soon their wild conduct was the talk 
of the countryside. 

Thus he spent the entire winter. With 
the spring came the tidings that war had 
been declared against Italy. And soon 
after, the sound of the recruiting-gun was 
heard throughout the land. Later on, the 
streets swarmed with troops marching forth 
to fight for their Emperor and Fatherland. 

The young hunter gave his employer 
notice, gave his boon companions a fare- 


Tales of Modern Germany 125 

well drink, and hastened forth toward the 
battle-field. And as we already know, he 
had gone as far as the hermitage, where 
we left him resting. 

As he sat there, his sharp ear caught the 
sound of a light rustling in the underbrush. 
His hunting instinct was instantly awake, 
and with eager eyes he sought the cause. 
But it was no wild animal going to drink 
that was stirring among the bushes. Far 
from it. He could see a white-dad figure 
between the trunks of the pine trees. 

With noiseless steps our hunter crept 
behind the walls of the cloister, for there, 
coming toward him, was the one he so fain 
would forget, yet could not. She walked 
slowly, stooping now and then to pluck a 
flower, which she added to the nosegay in 
her hand. 

It was the miller’s daughter, and every 
time she stooped, her long golden braids 


126 ■ Tales of Modern Germany 

swept the ground. When she reached the 
brook, she filled her earthern jar with water, 
and put her flowers in it. Then, entering 
the chapel, she placed the flowers on the 
shrine before the sad-eyed Madonna, and 
knelt down on the mossy ground before it. 

She repeated the Ave Maria, and then 
proceeded to pour out her heart in prayer. 
It was a prayer full of self-accusation and 
remorse; remorse for having driven him to 
danger and bloodshed. Then she begged 
Heaven for a sign that he still cared for 
her. In which case, she declared, she 
would walk as far as her feet would carry 
her to rescue him from danger. ‘‘Just a 
sign, dear Heaven,” she begged. 

Then softly, just above her head chimed 
the little bell in the belfry. It was but a 
single tone, yet it rang through her soul 
like a song of joy. She raised her eyes 
inquiringly, and the bell pealed once more, 


Tales of Modern Germany 127 

this time more loud and joyously. She 
turned quickly, and there in the door of 
the chapel stood the young hunter, extend- 
ing his arms toward her. And this time, 
you may be very sure, she did not repulse 
him. 

The tit-mice and the gold-finch nesting 
amid the pines fluttered around them, and 
even the timid field-mice peeped out of 
their burrows to behold their joyful re- 
union. After a while the young man 
reached for the bell-rope, exclaiming, ‘‘Dear 
little bell, you have brought us together. 
Now you shall announce our happiness to 
the forest-world.” 

And the little bell in the cloister belfry 
shone brightly in the golden sunlight, and 
swung untiringly to and fro, while it sang 
its song of praise. The preceding evening 
all the distinguished church-bells from the 
surrounding villages had returned from 


128 Tales of Modern Germany 

their journey to Rome. They had beheld 
many wonders. But, notwithstanding all 
this, not one of them sang so joyful an 
Easter song as the little bell in the forest. 


i 


THE WONDERFUL ORGAN 


Years ago a young organ-maker lived in 
Germany. He was a master-workman, and 
each organ he built seemed more perfect 
than any of the previous ones. At last, he 
reached such a point of perfection in his 
art, that he built an organ which played of 
itself whene’er a bridal-pair, of whose mar- 
riage God approved, entered the church in 
which it stood. 

Just about the time he completed his 
masterpiece, he became acquainted with a 
young girl, who , seemed to him the most 
beautiful and pious maiden in all the coun- 
try round. Having wooed and won her, 
he set about making preparations for the 
marriage. 

On the day of the wedding they entered 

129 


130 Tales of Modern Germany 

the church, the bride with her bridal- 
bouquet, and the groom with a nosegay in 
his buttonhole, followed by a long proces- 
sion of their friends and relatives. But the 
bridegroom’s heart was filled with naught 
but pride and ambition. He had no thought 
of his bride nor of his Maker. He thought 
only of what a wonderful workman he was, 
and of how the people would marvel when 
his organ began to play of itself. 

Thus he entered the church, but contrary 
to his expectations, he himself did the mar- 
veling, for, to his surprise and chagrin, the 
organ remained silent. What had hap- 
pened He never once thought he had 
anything to do with it. Of course, the 
fault must lie with his bride. No doubt 
she was not pleasing to the Lord, he thought 
in his stupid pride. So all day long he 
spoke no word to her, but glowered at her 
in silence. And when evening came, he 


Tales of Modern Germany 131 

quietly gathered his belongings together, 
and at his first opportunity, stole out of the 
house and deserted his bride. 

He traveled for many hundred miles, and 
finally settled in a strange land, where no 
one was acquainted with him, nor indeed 
cared enough about him to inquire whence 
he came. Here he lived for ten long years. 

Then he was seized with a sudden long- 
ing to visit his native land. There was 
also a nameless fear in his heart. He 
could not stop thinking of his beautiful 
bride, and of how he had so basely de- 
serted her. Where was she now, and how 
had she fared during his absence ? 

He tried in vain to still the longing in his 
heart, but it finally drove him back to his 
native land, to sue for her forgiveness. He 
gathered up his belongings, and set out on 
his journey. He knew no pause nor rest. 
Weary and foot-sore, he wandered day and 


132 Tales of Modern Germany 

night, and the nearer he came to his old 
home, the greater grew his impatience to 
get there. 

And even greater than his impatience 
waxed the fear in his heart that perchance 
he might not find her as sweet and friendly 
as she had been. At length the turrets of 
his native town rose into view. How 
bright they gleamed in the golden sun. 
They seemed to beckon him to hasten. 

He began to run as fast as he could. 
People stood still and stared after him as he 
sped by. They shook their heads, and de- 
clared he must be either insane or a thief, 
to run like that. When he reached the 
gate leading into town, he met a funeral. 
Behind the bier walked a long procession 
of people, and everyone was weeping. 

He inquired whose funeral it was, and 
why they wept so bitterly. He was told 
that the departed was the deserted bride of 


Tales of Modern Germany 133 

their former organ-maker. Then they pro- 
ceeded to tell him how dear and good and 
beautiful she had been. They told of her 
many good deeds, and as he listened, he 
learned that her last ten years had been 
devoted to caring for the sick and un- 
fortunate. Tears rose to his eyes, but he 
made no reply. Instead, he bent his head 
in reverence, and joined the procession. 

Indeed, he even pushed his way forward 
and helped to carry the coffin. No one 
recognized him, nor sought to disturb his 
sobs and tears with untimely questionings. 
Perchance they thought he had but recently 
buried some one he loved. 

At length they reached the church, and 
as the pall-bearers crossed the threshold 
with the coffin, the organ began to play of 
itself, and such music as none had ever 
heard before. They set the coffin down 
before the altar, and the stranger leaned 


134 Tales of Modern Germany 

against a pillar, listening to the wondrous 
tones. 

Higher and sweeter and clearer they rose 
and swelled, until the whole church shook 
and trembled. The stranger closed his 
eyes, for he was tired from his long journey. 
But his heart was filled with joy, for he 
knew by the token of the organ that God 
had forgiven him. And as the last strains 
died away in lingering sweetness, he fell 
lifeless to the marble floor. 

The people hastened to his assistance, 
but he was beyond all need. of earthly help. 
When they discovered who it was that lay 
before them, they opened the coffin and 
placed him beside his bride. As they closed 
the lid, the organ began to play once more. 
But this time it was as soft as a breath of 
wind. Then it ceased, and since then it 
has never again been heard, except when 
played by human hands. 





^ ijtm 







■> . 


> V: 








■•fci •>■ ' ' 


. *v'Vl .' 






ir*. 


^ yhi 



(F. 135) 


THE FALCONER 


{Eugent Fromentin) 


THE WATERS OF FORGETFULNESS 


In the chamber of the round-tower, 
which was decorated with all sorts of 
sportsmanlike trophies, such as antlers, 
weapons, and wings of wild birds, sat a 
young man in a wooden arm-chair. 

He was twisting a bow-string out of the 
sinews of a marten, and singing a merry 
hunting song as he worked. He wore 
a hunting suit, and his closely cropped head 
told the fact that he was a servant in the 
employ of the owner of the castle. His 
name was Hans. 

Overhead a swinging hoop was attached 
to the ceiling, and in it sat a hooded falcon, 
with its wings tied together. Every once 
in so often, the hunter paused in the midst 


136 Tales of Modern Germany 

of his work, to set the slowly swinging hoop 
in swifter motion. 

He did this so that the falcon might not 
fall asleep, as it was a nestling which he 
was training for the chase. And the first 
step in training a hunting falcon was to 
discipline him through hunger and sleep- 
lessness. 

Hans was the Count’s falconer, and 
the old gentleman had kept him more 
than busy. But in these latter days, he 
was having an easier time. The old Count 
no longer went hunting. No, indeed. For 
the last year he had lain still and silent in 
a stone sarcophagus decorated with his 
coat-of-arms. And his widow, the Lady 
Adelaide, sat all day long in prayer with 
the old chaplain, and had no thoughts for 
the chase. 

But to-day, the Countess was weary of 
the unceasing prayers, and came out of 


Tales of Modem Germany 137 

her retirement, wandering for the first 
time all over her estate. The song of the 
lusty huntsman must have seemed a wel- 
come change from the monotonous psalm- 
singing of the chaplain; for she followed 
the sound of the voice, until she reached 
the falconer’s room in the tower. 

Hans looked astonished when he saw 
the haughty lady in her mourning-veil and 
somber garments. He arose and bowed 
to the ground. Lady Adelaide’s bright 
eyes beamed on the slender young man, 
and she smiled graciously. So graciously, 
that her smile seemed to him as bright as 
the sunshine of May. 

She asked him many questions regard- 
ing the training of falcons, and the chase; 
and when she went away, she gave him 
such a searching look, that he blushed, 
and turned away his head, like a bashful 
maid of fourteen. 


138 Tales of Modern Germany 

Not many days afterward Lady Adelaide, 
mounted on a snow-white palfrey, rode 
through the forest. But this time she 
was not dressed in mourning. She wore 
a green velvet riding habit, and instead of 
a widow’s veil she had on a sable hat 
with long waving plumes. 

Behind her, with a gray falcon on his 
wrist, rode Hans the falconer, whose eyes 
seemed to shine for joy. They had al- 
ready ridden quite a distance, and the 
turrets of the castle had long since dis- 
appeared behind the broad branches of 
the tree-tops, when Lady Adelaide turned 
her head and said : 

‘‘Ride beside me, Hans.” 

Hans willingly did as he was bade. 
The path was narrow, and the Countess’ 
riding habit brushed against his knee 
as they rode along. The trees rustled 
lightly, the chaffinches sang, and occa- 


Tales of Modern Germany 139 

sionly a timid squirrel or rabbit would 
leap across their path and disappear among 
the bushes. 

At times the crackling of the bushes 
could be heard, as some larger denizen of 
the forest crashed its way through the 
thick underbrush; or twigs rustled as some 
startled bird fluttered noisily among the 
boughs, and then all was still again. 

Then the Countess turned to the falconer 
and smilingly said: 

‘‘Let me see, Hans, if you are a clever 
huntsman.” 

“Dearest huntsman, give me light. 

What soars higher than falcon or kite?” 

And without stopping to think Hans 
answered : 

“High flies the falcon, high the kite. 

Yet the eagle soars to a greater height.” 

“Good,” laughed the Lady Adelaide, 
and asked a second riddle: 


140 Tales of Modern Germany 

“Dearest huntsman, tell me true, 

What soars higher then eagles do?’’ 

The falconer thought a few moments 
ere he replied: 

“Higher than eagle’s flight there streams 
The golden sunlight’s glowing beams.” 

The Countess nodded her head ap- 
provingly. 

“Come, you are doing fine,’’ and then 
she asked a third one: 

“Dear sir, hide it not from me 
What higher than the sun can be?” 

But Hans had reached his intellectual 
limit, and could think of no suitable re- 
sponse. Then the gracious Lady drew 
rein, leaned over toward him, and whis- 
pered softly: 

“As high as Heaven the sun’s gold ball — 

Yet love, true love, soars over all.” 

And then she kissed him. 

Two nutpeckers, on swift blue wings, 


Tales of Modern Germany 14 1 

fluttered out of the hazel bushes and flew 
chirping into the forest, eager to relate 
what they had seen. And next morning 
the sparrows nesting ’neath the castle 
eaves twittered to each other: 

“Tweet, tweet, twee-ee-ee. 

The lady loves Hans faithfully.” 

Yes, indeed, it was a happy time for 
Hans. He allowed his hair to grow in 
long golden ringlets to his shoulders, a 
custom not permitted to servants, and 
wore silver spurs and a heron’s feather 
in his hat. 

And such dreams as he indulged in! 
He spent hours building castles in the 
air, each more beautiful than the last. 
He did not obtain a castle, however, but 
a splendid forester’s lodge with antlers 
on its gable and broad fields and meadows 
round it, was given to him for life. 

And there he reigned as district forester. 


142 Tales of Modern Germany 

And when the Lady Adelaide came thither 
to visit, he would hasten to his doorway, 
to wave his hat at her. Then he would 
lift her from the saddle, and set milk and 
honey and bread on the table before her. 
And thus the summer, autumn, and half 
the winter passed. Then came carnival 
time. Many guests from surrounding es- 
tates came thither and the castle looked 
almost like an inn. 

The forester, Hans, sat alone and lonely 
in his secluded lodge. Only occasionally 
did any of the gay doings at the castle 
reach his ears. At last came tidings which 
were anything but joyful to Hans. Lady 
Adelaide was going to be married, so ran 
the tale, and it sounded like a death-knell 
in the young man’s ears. 

He locked his house, and made his way 
toward the hill leading to the castle, all 
the while muttering something between 


Tales of Modern Germany 143 

his teeth which did not sound like a prayer» 
As he reached the foot of the hill where 
the winding path began to lead upward, 
he heard hoof-beats and a silvery laugh 
which pierced his soul like a two-edged 
sword. 

Down the pathway came the Countess, 
riding her snow-white palfrey; and at her 
side was a splendid looking man, in rich 
attire, who rode a coal-black stallion, 
and never took his eyes from the face of 
the beautiful lady at his side. 

The heart of the young hunter gave a 
wild throb, but he controlled himself, 
and seating himself on a stone near the 
path, he assumed the posture of a beggar, 
and as the pair approached him, he sang: 

“As high as Heaven the sun’s gold ball — 

Yet love, true love soars over all.” 

The haughty knight drew rein, and 


144 Tales of Modern Germany 

reached toward the singer with his whip, 
asking his companion; 

‘‘What does he mean? Who is the 
man ? ’’ 

The Countess turned pale, but quickly 
collecting her wits, replied, ‘'A crazy hunter. 
Come, let us go on, I shudder at his very 
presence.’’ 

The knight loosened his purse, and 
tossed a gold piece to Hans, who was quite 
near to him. Hans cried aloud, and threw 
himself face downward on the ground. 
Then the two put spurs to their horses and 
rode quickly away. 

The hoof-beats had long died away 
into silence, before Hans raised himself 
from the ground. He wiped the dust 
and dirt from his face, pulled his hat over 
his eyes, and went back into the forest. 
He kept on walking, avoiding the beaten 
paths, until night fell. Then he threw 


Tales of Modern Germany 145 

himself down under a tree, wrapped him- 
self in his coat, and utterly worn out, fell 
asleep. 

And there he lay, sleeping the dreamless 
sleep of exhaustion, till the cold air of 
morning awoke him. But as soon as 
he arose, all his bitter grief came crowding 
back into his mind like a diabolical ap- 
parition. 

‘‘ Oh, if I could only forget it, if I could 
only forget it!” he cried aloud. ‘‘There 
is a burn somewhere, in which there lies 
a spring, of whose waters one has only to 
drink, to have all memory of the past 
fade from his mind. Who can show me 
the way to this spring?” 

“I can,” said a voice near him. “I am 
well acquainted with the Waters of Forget- 
fulness and such information as I possess 
is at your service.” 

Hans looked and saw a young fellow 


146 Tales of Modern Germany 

in ragged black clothes, whose bare toes 
peeped inquisitively out from his worn- 
out shoes. He claimed to be a vagrant 
student, who were common enough figures 
four hundred years ago. They were stu- 
dents who wandered around from one 
university to another, without any definite 
occupation or settled abode. This one 
continued : 

‘‘The water which causes forgetfulness 
is called Lethe, and is to be found in 
Greece. Thither you must journey, and 
you will find out the particulars on the spot 
itself. If you would attain forgetfulness 
with less trouble to yourself, come with me 
to the Sign of the Blue Grapes, which 
lies not far from here. The hostess of 
the tavern will offer you so much forget- 
fulness, that your purse will become hardly 
less flat than mine.” 

Thus spake the vagrant. Hans raised 


Tales of Modern Germany 147 

himself and followed him to the forest inn. 
There they drank each other’s health all 
day long, and half the following night. 
And as they lay together in perfect har- 
mony at midnight, on the bench behind 
the stove, Hans had indeed forgotten 
everything which oppressed and troubled 
him. 

However, with the first gray streaks of 
dawn, he awoke to all the bitterness of the 
Past and a raging headache beside. He 
settled his and his companion’s score, 
and bidding the latter a curt farewell, 
took his departure. 

‘‘Oh, if one could only forget!” he 
said, as he went along, striking his fore- 
head with his fist. “I must find the spring. 
Otherwise I shall indeed take leave of my 
senses.” 

On the road there was an old half dead 
willow, and on the willow sat the raven, 


148 Tales of Modern Germany 

who turned his head to gaze attentively 
at the lonely wanderer. 

‘‘You world-wise bird,” said the hunts- 
man, “you know everything that happens 
upon earth. Tell me, pray, where flow 
the Waters of Forgetfulness?” 

“I only wish I knew!” answered the 
raven, “so that I myself might drink of 
them. I knew of a nest in which were 
seven fat dormice, which had been raised 
on nuts. And yesterday, when I went 
to see how the dear toothsome little creatures 
were getting along, when I got there, 
whom should I meet but the marten just 
coming away from the nest, and as I live, 
not one single morsel of those dear little 
dormice was to be found. 

“And now, no matter where I go or 
stay, I am reminded of what I missed. 
I can’t get those nice fat little dormice 
out of my head. Yes! Who knows 


Tales of Modern Germany 149 

where to find the Waters of Forgetful- 
ness ? 

‘‘But do you know one thing, young 
man ? Go to the witch of the forest, 
who is said to know more than all the 
rest of creation put together. It is possi- 
ble that she is also acquainted with the 
Spring of Forgetfulness.’^ 

Hans thanked him and started off to 
find her. The witch was at home. She 
sat in front of her hut spinning, and as 
she spun, her white head kept nid-nid- 
nodding. Near her sat a gray tom-cat 
with grass green eyes, washing his paws 
and purring contentedly. 

The young man walked up to the old 
woman, whom he greeted with great re- 
spect, and then stated his business. 

do indeed know the Spring of Forget- 
fulness very well,” said the witch. ‘‘Nor 
shall I withhold the drink from you, if you 


150 Tales of Modern Germany 

really desire it, my poor boy/’ But as you 
no doubt have heard before, ‘No work, 
no pay/ 

“Therefore if you wish a glass of this 
costly beverage, you must first perform 
three tasks, which I shall impose on you. 
Will you?” 

“If I can,” he answered. 

“Never fear! I shall ask nothing im- 
possible of you. You must cut down the 
trees in the woods behind my house. That 
is the first thing.” 

Hans could do this right well. The 
witch gave him an axe and led him to the 
spot. He at once set to work. He tried 
to imagine that every swing of his axe 
was a blow dealt at his rival. The trees 
fell groaning to the ground beneath the 
lusty strokes of his axe, and every groan 
they emitted did his heart good. 

Thus evening came on, and Hans be- 


Tales of Modern Germany 151 

gan to think about getting something to 
eat, since he was becoming very hungry. 
He had not long to wait, for a young girl 
came out of the hut, carrying a basket of 
food and drink, which she set before the 
tired woodchopper. 

As Hans raised his eyes, he beheld the 
beautiful figure with flowing golden hair, 
which glistened in the last rays of the 
setting sun. She was the witch’s daughter. 
She looked at the gloomy young woods- 
man with gentle eyes, and paused a mo- 
ment before him. But as he said nothing, 
she went away again. 

Then Hans fell upon the meal with 
great relish. Afterward he lay down on 
the bed of moss and pine boughs which 
he had gathered, and fell into a dreamless 
sleep. But when he awoke next morn- 
ing, the memory of his pain awoke too. 

Thereat he seized his axe, attacked the 


152 Tales of Modern Germany 

tree trunks with such force, that his lusty 
strokes echoed through the woodland as 
far as one could walk in an hour. And 
in the evening when the pretty girl brought 
him his food, Hans did not look quite so 
gloomy as he had the previous day. 

And because he felt that he must say 
something, he remarked, “ Pleasant weather 
to-day, isn’t it?” And she answered: 

‘'Yes, lovely weather,” nodded in a 
friendly manner and returned home. Thus 
seven days passed by, one just like the 
other, and on the seventh day the last tree 
was felled. The witch came, praised him 
for his industry and said, “Now for the 
second task.” 

He must dig out the roots, plough the 
ground and sow the fruit and grain. This 
took him seven weeks. Each evening after 
his work was done, the witch’s daughter 
brought him food. She sat beside him 


153 


Tales of Modern Germany 

on a fallen tree and listened with shining 
eyes while he told her tales of the outside 
world. And when he had finished, she 
would hold out her white hand and say, 
“Good-night, dear Hans.” 

Then she would return to her dwelling, 
and Hans would throw himself upon his 
bed of boughs, and instantly fall asleep. 
When seven weeks had passed, the witch 
came round to inspect his work. She was 
well satisfied, and praised his diligence, 
ending with, “Now comes the third and 
last task. Out of these fallen trees 
you must build me a nice house with seven 
rooms, and when you shall have finished 
that, you may have your cup of Forgetful- 
ness and go where you please.” 

So Hans became an architect, and with 
axe and saw built a splendid house. But 
it was very slow work and took him seven 
whole months, for he had no workmen to 


154 Tales of Modern Germany 

assist him. However he was neither dis- 
couraged nor displeased, since he really 
liked the cool green forest, and willingly 
would have remained with his present 
task-master forever. 

Occasionally he would think of his 
former grief, but only as one thinks of a 
bad dream, from which one is glad to be 
awakened. Every evening the golden- 
haired daughter came to him with his 
meal, and after he had eaten it, they would 
sit on the fallen trees, and sing together 
merry hunting songs, and songs of part- 
ings, misunderstandings, and reunions. 

Thus seven months rolled by, and at 
length the house was finished from the 
threshold to the gable. Hans planted a 
young fir tree on the gable, according to 
custom, and the girl made wreaths of fir 
boughs twined with red-ash berries, with 
which she decorated the walls. 


Tales of Modern Germany 155 

Then the old witch came hobbling along 
on her crutch, the tom-cat on her shoulder, 
to view his finished work. She looked 
very festive, and in one hand she held a 
cup carved out of wood and filled with the 
drink of Forgetfulness. 

“Well, you have completed the three 
tasks I imposed on you,” she said, “and 
now for your reward. This is the cup for 
which you longed. Take it, and when 
you drain the last drop, all memory of 
the entire Past will disappear from your 
mind.” 

The huntsman stretched his hand out 
for the cup, then hestitated. 

“Drink,” said the witch, “and forget 
everything as you desired.” 

“Everything?” 

“Yes, every single thing. Your former 
grief, myself, and ” — 

“ Me, too,” interrupted her pretty daugh- 


356 Tales of Modern Germany 

ter, shielding her eyes with her hand, that 
he might not see her tears. 

Thereat the young man seized the cup 
and threw it with such force to the ground 
that it broke into pieces, and the glistening 
drops lay on the ground like dew, and 
he cried: 

‘‘Mother, I’ll stay with you!” 

And before he well knew how it hap- 
pened, he had the girl’s head on his shoulder 
and she was sobbing for joy. 

And the trees rustled their approval 
joyously, the green corn waved in the 
breeze, the birds warbled a blithe refrain, 
and the old gray cat walked round and 
round the happy pair, purring in sweet 
content. 

And now, dear children, I could easily 
tell you that the witch changed into a 
beautiful fairy, her daughter into a charm- 
ing princess and the good substantial 


Tales of Modern Germany 15^ 

house of wood into a magnificent palace. 
You might perhaps like it better, but since 
I prefer to stick to the truth, we will have 
to leave things as they are. 

Still, something wonderful did happen 
after all. Wherever a drop of the Waters 
of Forgetfulness fell upon the ground, 
there sprang up a tiny flower with eyes of 
heavenly blue and a heart of gold. And 
wherever one was seen, countless numbers 
soon sprang up, and in time they spread 
all over the land. And if you do not know 
the name of this blue flower, I fear you are 
not one of those for whom this story was 
written. 



.cV-'oi' •: .Y' ■ / ; : ;»v, '/ 


r 


^ti 






I rV>>^ 

'/ ‘ '^.v . . 


H: jZ .' 1 "it . ^v ■<’ ? mmr9i Vtl/k ' ' • ^ 

. - *. '-s'l^ ., :•.' *. ^ •■ • ‘'ki-h’K' A 


. ' • ^>t 


{ 


•A . 

» • * ; j' \*- -. . :^ . ■ 


» (> 




*• , . - > / \ 


- : -v ‘ 


m>. 

\1L I * 

i.VI>.i. tW* 




'vr 


. * ‘ '■ 

■- '/ I 


. ) 







ft 

:r-^:mki 


•' ' , >*; 

; " , * 




V' 

A 


\.y 


» •' 

y\ . 



.0,. • ' . 


.T • ^ 


a*'' 


W%‘:. ■' 





. ;v;;v 


' -v/,.' ■ /"• fi;,‘ 


-v . -^^ . Wf. >lf, 

'd 


■ ^ " :V. 

r y 


• ^ 


' t ‘ 


'■;..( i'-.. 

J'* • • ' i wl , -•' 


/ < 


s 


>. t 

. <. 


• ♦ 


t V. 

i*. 


»• . 


s ■ 


* . / ' 


' V >' -■ - •:. A t.’ •*• 


.♦ 


^ ■* 




V. 




: 






I« » « 





*» •. 


s. '!». 


Li j:>''''’-‘'^ 




THE OLD TRUNK 


The trunk about which I am going to 
tell you, belonged to an old man, who was 
accustomed to travel a great deal. It was 
not a handsome trunk. Quite the contrary, 
for it was covered with rough seal skin, and 
its corners were edged in iron. It was also 
strengthened with iron bands, much as a 
barrel is with hoops. 

It evidently had been made more with 
an eye to its serviceable qualities than to 
beauty. Since its advent into the world, 
the moths had made their way into its shaggy 
cover, and its iron trimmings had become 
quite rusted. It had also received many 
dents and scars in the course of its travels. 

The baggage-handlers saw at a glance 

that it could stand a great deal. And they 

159 


i6o Tales of Modern Germany 

would knock it about with such careless 
violence that the wonder is how it ever 
managed to survive such rough treatment. 
All this was not much calculated to improve 
its disposition, you may be sure. So in 
time it grew very ugly, and would knock 
into and thump against everything within 
reach of its iron corners. 

“Keep your distance,’’ it would say to 
the trunks it met in traveling, when they 
complained of its ugliness. “ I should think 
you could see how rough I am.” 

The man to whom it belonged was a 
queer person. He lived in an elegant house, 
which was most beautifully furnished. 

When he was at home, nothing would 
do but that the ugly old trunk must stand 
in his room directly under a beautiful gilt 
mirror, where it was woefully out of place. 
And when he was traveling, the first thing 
he would do was to have the trunk brought 
up to his room. 


Tales of Modern Germany i6i 

certainly must be filled with gold/’ 
the people said. ‘Mt is so heavy, and he 
never allows it out of his sight.” 

But they were entirely mistaken. There 
was something in it, to be sure. But gold ? 
No, indeed! Gold least of all. When the 
old gentleman was alone in his room, he 
would press a secret spring, and up the lid 
would fly, disclosing a magnificent red vel- 
vet chest, trimmed with gold cord and lace. 
It was a perfect beauty. But if he thought 
he heard anyone approaching the ^room, 
bang! would go the cover, and it would 
be an ugly old trunk once more. 

Now, one of the maid-servants employed 
by the old man had more than the usual 
share of curiosity, and often wondered what 
was in the old trunk. She was likewise 
very sly, so one day she left her shoes 
outside, and crept noiselessly into the room 
in her stocking feet. And as luck would 


i 62 Tales of Modern Germany 

have it, the trunk stood open. She was 
quite close to it, and when she beheld its 
red velvet and gold lace, she quite forgot 
herself, and cried, "'Good gracious, how 
beautiful it is inside!’’ 

Just then the trunk became conscious 
that someone was in the room. Bang! 
went its lid, and almost snapped her finger 
off. For just at that particular moment, 
she had been busily endeavoring to find 
out if the red cover were really velvet, by 
feeling of it. 

“Ouch!” she screamed in pain and 
fright, “what a nasty old thing you are! 
No one dare meddle with you.” 

And ever after, if anyone asked her 
about the old trunk, which was so jealously 
guarded by its master, and wished to know 
if perchance some treasure were concealed 
therein, she would say: 

"‘There is nothing wonderful about the 


Tales of Modern Germany 163 

old trunk, and still less inside. Everybody 
has his own little peculiarities, especially 
those who are old and unmarried. The 
old man has made an idol of the trunk, 
that is all.’" 

But she was very much mistaken, for 
there was something peculiar about it, after 
all. Every now and then the old gentleman 
would carefully lock and bolt the door. 
Then he would press the secret spring, 
and the trunk would fly open. Next he 
would listen carefully, to make sure no one 
was lurking outside. 

As soon as he was sure that no one 
was peeking through the keyhole, he would 
lift out the velvet chest and put it on the 
table. Then he would touch another hidden 
spring, and the red velvet cover would fly 
open. And what was inside ? You would 
never, never guess, for, though perfectly 
true, it seems almost incredible. 


164 Tales of Modern Germany 

For no sooner was the lid opened, than 
out sprang a graceful little fairy. A real 
live fairy, and a princess to boot. She was 
as dainty and sweet as an apple-blossom 
which has been kissed to rosy beauty by 
the sun. She wore a white and pink silk 
gown, and high-heeled pink shoes. Two 
long golden braids swept the hem of her 
gown, and her eyes were as blue as the 
August skies. 

There she sat, perched on the edge of the 
chest, swinging her dainty heels, and telling 
the old man the most charming fairy tales 
one could ever imagine. The old man 
would lean back in his chair and listen with 
all his might. 

But one day, when she finished relating 
a story, she turned to him and said: 

‘‘Just think how many, many beautiful 
stories I have told you. I do believe, how- 
ever, that they go in one ear and out of the 


Tales of Modern Germany 165 

other. Why don’t you make some use of 
them ? Why don’t you write them down ?” 

‘‘That’s a good idea,” he agreed. “I 
can write them down, to be sure, but they 
will not sound half so charming as when 
told by you. I will write them down, if 
you wish me to, but remember! No one 
must know where they came from, and 
least of all, that I have you hidden in my 
old trunk. Otherwise, people would flock 
here to see you, and they would want to 
touch you with their clumsy fingers, and I 
couldn’t bear that. Besides, the red velvet 
on your box would soon become very 
shabby.” 

“No, indeed! No one must see me,” 
replied the dainty little fairy. “And yet, 
how they would marvel, could they only 
know what was in your old trunk.” And 
she laughed in glee. 

“Hush!” said the old man, “someone is 


1 66 Tales of Modem Germany 

knocking at the door. Quick! Jump into 
your box!’’ 

Then he hurriedly replaced the box in 
the trunk, and closed its shabby lid. And 
when the maid servant — for it was she 
again — entered the room, with her tray of 
tea-things for her master’s supper, the old 
trunk was standing, as ugly and shabby as 
ever, in its accustomed place under the 
mirror. 

And no one ever knew of the existence of 
the dainty little fairy, nor dreamed of how 
she charmed away the old man’s lonely 
hours and made life beautiful for him. 
But later on, when these stories appeared 
in book form, people did wonder how such 
a very commonplace old gentleman could 
have had such charming thoughts. 




.'LSI; 




f- , 


■ ‘ .'..■ •■ *' I''- ■ 

. ■ V . ■ ■’• V' •:. ■• • •: ■ 


..■ ' e,.:; ■....;>>:i 

■■ ■■ • ^ : 


• \ * • V '• V -V t' rT -i 



t ' 




.*>.* 


r ■ •.' 


¥ • ’ . 


T\ 


* * 

1 -. .* 


.» • I 

» r 

.• » 






, « 


^’r. 


k • 


; , ; ;; ■ ’f<y'r:^^h^k 

*• , . • ►fJ' 

• • * V - 


'•V. 

A A 


• ' - f. 

I * . 

» '• ‘ 


I ' 

I •**, , 


.r 


m 


' ."i' 


?.g» 

‘■‘ :V-- ’• :^- 36 ' 



, > .r#- 

.: j-. rr^- 



h:-^ •■'. •• *'-*v 

■K£^ ' ^ '*• s»Vy' 

iHnSMr * - ■ - 




m 


• - V'-'- •.• . j 




k • 


' • • . V- 


•rv- : r > ‘ 




• • • » > V 

I I * * • tL * < * 

‘ . ' . ^ ■ >■ ,r • '' .• 

'. . r “ ■ •' V *-, 


' r- ■ • ■’■ 


• S 


A » 






v-l 


't/t' 


»• ‘ . 




' <• 

•A 


- / . 


»' ■ #; 


.-O' •• ./ 

-'i v.’r'.k'M- 



. N ,'a ’,•. ' .* , «* *• : *•''« 

■■ ■■■'■'. ■ -'itSSaS^^ ’ A 



* . . r 

' ■• '-Sk 













•* » • 


. »«'•' 




t'vV 












* 4*^ J 


• *i .V *• *’ 

• • » • * * •• • 

' . . . »-• ■ •: ;iiJI 9 S 

■ ' ': • -‘ v'' '•■'’'•■'C'*:* ' *■■'' 


■ •''■. .'.“A 

■ ■ 




m 


is.' 




SgLi^K'-v'' 

u 53 »SS: - 




S';:;v<'i« 4 ;; ‘ 


-S^ .-..: 5 ^, 

;'■ >> /•>* <> 

>.• * •. X - 

* •- . m ♦ft ► . k 4.* 


- 7 / : ' ^V> 4 ^V:'r^ 

- ' . A. . r . » |S . ’ • » 



. . >?s ;^^5 

•■ •*. ■ *^«s > 


fei . ' 












m 


M' ;' 

); :■ 


t > •♦ . 


\ 


\i 


n> ' 'j* »., ♦». •• •‘T’ / '• 'i*' 

* . r,v 'ti^fvbK. ■ . *." 









^ , ■,*('* ’• '• ' !* ' *" *i' ' I y • ■ ‘ ^*. * 



v¥-'' - 


>. . < 

* 



'fv: ■ ';V" ' 


.Iftf . 


V-*. ‘ J. • 


^ » 
i* 4 /' 


v:,'* 


. fv*.. 4 i 




j-M-r* > ■■■ • 

. 1 ^. A • , ■ * 

> ' •••. , ■> k 



'•‘v*^H 

\ V 


VV'if 



.'► •. *l ■ 

' ' V 


'_ • -V 

c . r 


kt,. V, ._•. ; ■ •*■ * ^' 


'T 


. ( 




/ >« 


. V r^"'' 


7 »: ••' <- } f • 



> 1^ 





V , , vij. 


r '■ 


■ ( 



t • 




I i 


> . 


. i ,1 


r' ':k ' 


•■> ,.' ;-if '.'-v- > 


—‘■'•.’'■■■'.I 


: A- 


•» n 


f ' 




fi^' 


«sa«v^i 








>'• » 


. S' 


! 5 g‘*i.V. 'i.'i '' 

^ f ' ' f. ; >r,^™ 


.' ‘J * . 


t . 






.>»•*. ' ' *. alVZrJI 

:vv.' 



» A- 







:>> 




; V ; •-• ^ ^ 




r» T . *W ' ■ 'i ’■*• 

i 


tlf^/ ^* 1 * ■*' 


4 






■ '.V. ■■ 







' * i ■•*.-• 

'•- * ' V' ^ ^ * J * • .' * 














